


The Weight We Carry

by StarlitVesper



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Adventure, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dib is just kinda over everything, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Has Issues, Fluff and Angst, Frenemies, M/M, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, ZaDr, all smut involves 18+ characters, character driven act one, heavy mental illness themes as well, idk how to use tags on here please ignore my fumblings, oh and zim is super emotionally compromised, plot driven act two, rated E for language and self harm topics and some smut, well eventual adventure, your required reading is The Trial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-02 20:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 81,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitVesper/pseuds/StarlitVesper
Summary: In their final year of high school, Dib and Zim have just barely figured out how to stay friends for long enough to finish their physics homework together. But when Dib suddenly stops acting like himself, it's up to Zim to try and figure out how to get him back to normal. Purely for rivalry reasons, of course! It's not like he CARES about Dib or anything. That would be stupid ... right?... Oh. Fuck.Zim's got secrets and Dib's got a laundry list of issues but together, they might just make one functional person. And they're going to have to figure out how to work together fast if Zim wants to stay on Earth past the end of the week.UPDATE JULY 8, 2020 -- This fic isnot dead!!! It'll be returning inearly August with Act 2. Conspiracy theories abound, so please bring your tinfoil hats >:3*********************************************Check me out onTumblr,InstagramandTwitter (18+ ONLY)for snippets, updates, my art, ugly selfies and posts about my cats!





	1. Prologue: Frenemies

**Author's Note:**

> #### Act One: Take Chances, Make Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check me out on [Tumblr](https://starlitvesper.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/starlitvesper/) and [Twitter (18+ ONLY)](https://twitter.com/starlitvesper) for snippets, updates, my art, ugly selfies and posts about my cats!

* * *

_Well, one day they'll drop the bomb_  
_ Who knows who they'll drop it on_  
_ Maybe someone that you love_  
_ So before they get to you_  
_ Do what you gotta do_  
_ KABOOM!_  
[\- I Fight Dragons, _KABOOM!_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6S_LV4Lvh0)

* * *

“It’s over, Zim! You’re not going to get away with … get away with …” Dib collapsed in the dust, too exhausted to continue. He stared up at the sky as Zim flopped down beside him, panting. “What, exactly, was your plan, again?”

“Eh, whatever it was, it probably wasn’t going to work,” Zim said, waving a hand dismissively. He looked over a Dib, noting the bruise that was already forming under his eye. He hadn’t meant to hit quite that hard. “Don’t we have a physics test tomorrow, or something?”

“Shit. Yeah. I haven’t even looked at the material yet.”

“Me, neither …”

Dib looked over and caught Zim staring at him. “You’re waiting for me to ask you to study with me, aren’t you?”

Zim crossed his arms and looked away. “Am not.”

“Mhmm, sure. Didn’t you fail the last test you studied alone for?”

“I didn’t _ fail _ it, Dib-shit; I just missed it and never made it up.” He glanced over at Dib. “But, you know, since we’re both here and all …”

Dib rolled his eyes, used to just letting Zim’s insults go without comment by this point. “Would you like to call an official truce?” He stood up gingerly, wincing a bit, and shook the dust off his coat before holding out his hand.

Zim sighed and took it, allowing Dib to pull him to his feet. “Yes, I am calling an Official Truce so that neither of us gets stuck here for another year.”

Dib held on to Zim’s hand. “How long is this one going to last, Zim?” he asked, his voice quiet but his gaze intense.

“At least until the exam is over,” Zim said, flippantly. He tried to pull his hand away but Dib still didn’t let go.

“Are we just going to keep doing this forever?”

“What do you mean?”

“Beating the crap out of each other and then calling a truce and doing it over and over ad nauseum? Aren’t you getting a little tired of sometimes being almost friends and sometimes being enemies?”

Zim met Dib’s searching stare for a moment before shuddering and shaking his hand loose. “You made the truce handshake weird, Dib-stink.”

“I’m being serious.”

Zim stared at the ground, thinking. “You want to be friends?”

“It would be better than kicking each other’s asses every other week …” Dib mumbled.

Zim was quiet for a moment, trying to gauge the situation. He gave Dib an inquisitive look. “Why don’t you join me?”

“_ WHAT?? _” That hadn’t been what Dib was going for. He stared at Zim in shock. 

“Oh, come on, Dib! You hate these humans as much as I do. Don’t you _ kind of _ \--”

“No.”

“Just a _ little _ \--”

“_ No. _”

“So you’re telling me you’ve _ never _ been tempted to let me get away with something just to get back at the rest of humanity?” Zim shot him a meaningful look. “Tempted to maybe leave them to their … _ moose-y fate _?”

Dib rolled his eyes. “_ One _ time in middle school, Zim! I thought about it _ one time! _ I’m a bigger person than that, now. I’m not just going to let you hand my planet over to your leaders on a silver platter.”

Zim shrugged. “Fine, fine. But I’ll be sure to remember you when I’ve achieved world conquest.”

“The answer will still be _ no _ . Not that it matters, since you have a better record of _ saving _ the planet than you do of annihilating it.”

Zim opened his mouth, then thought a moment, then closed it.

“At any rate,” Dib continued, “I’m talking about stopping all this fighting. Getting through this year without any broken bones or black eyes. Maybe instead of dominating the planet, dominating the science fair together.”

He held out a hand and Zim thought things through. Gun to his head, he couldn’t even say what his last few world domination schemes had even been. It was more about provoking a reaction out of Dib than it was about actually winning, lately. And, after all, wasn’t he getting tired of coming home with bruises and scratches and bite marks? They were almost finished with high school and it wasn’t as though Zim expected to continue this on into college, right?

Dib dropped his hand to his side, looking dejected. “Oh, whatever. It was worth a shot.”

_ No … wait!!! _

He turned to walk away and called to Zim over his shoulder. “We’re burning daylight, Zim. You want to go study or not?”

Zim sighed. “Yeah … Let’s go.”


	2. I Don’t Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are themes of self-harm in this chapter. This kinda started out as a personal project for me to work through some of my own issues with self-harm and depression/bipolar, and grew into ... the monstrosity it is now. So just know all of this comes from a very raw and honest place.  
*********************************************  
Like what I'm doing? Want chapter updates a week early, plus other cool art perks? Support me on [PATREON!](patreon.com/starlitvesper)

* * *

_Going nowhere with your strategy_  
_ Sit down, relapse, relax you got nowhere to be_  
_ I'm longing for another_  
_ Running from another side of me_  
_ Maybe not as good as it used to be  
I'm not myself today_

[\- SONOIO, _ Enough _](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4HT1Mu7zNk)

* * *

Zim was having even more trouble than usual concentrating in class. Not only was it the time of year where the air was perpetually just cold enough to irritating even indoors -- the heat wouldn't kick on until it was physically required to keep the pipes from freezing ... thanks, school board -- and his energy for almost everything was rapidly waning with the shortening days. He mentally ran through a list of serious earth diseases he hadn’t yet used to skip out on classes.

The history teacher droned on about various folktales and Zim thought that the topic might actually be interesting if literally any other human was teaching it. He leaned back in his seat and his eyes wandered over to Dib, who sitting a couple seats back in an adjacent row, his head on his desk in a decidedly un-Dib-like display of boredom. He’d been pretty seriously moping around for the past few weeks, to the point where it was becoming irritating. Sure, it left the path to world domination clear for Zim, but what fun would that be? The Tallest wouldn’t be impressed by an easy victory. No, he needed Dib to kick whatever funk he was in and go back to putting his attention where it belonged. On Zim.

He slowly stripped off the perforated edge of his paper, balled it up, and covertly flicked it towards Dib. It landed in Dib’s hair and if he felt it, he didn’t show any signs of caring. Zim frowned. He shimmied the eraser out of his pencil and then flicked that over as well.

That one bounced off the side of Dib’s head and he finally stirred and looked around, bleary-eyed and miffed. Zim quickly went back to taking notes and looking busy. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dib glaring at him.

_ What? _Zim mouthed innocently. Dib just rolled his eyes and put his head back down. Not quite satisfied with that response, Zim folded his notes page into a little triangle “football” like they used to make in middle school. He propped it up between the table and his index finger, closing one eye to take aim.

“Am I boring you, Zim?” the teacher asked, just ask Zim flicked the paper football in Dib’s direction.

Dib looked up just in time for it to bounce off his glasses.

“Ye-- I mean no,” Zim said hurriedly, folding his hands in a manner he hoped appeared innocent.

“Maybe you’d like to tell us about the origins of the _ Dwayyo _?”

“Er, isn’t that a song by Harry Belafonte …?”

“That’s _ Day-O _ , Zim. Jesus,” Dib muttered, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “It’s a Carribean folk song. The _ Dwayyo _is from Maryland folklore.” 

_ Duh. _

“Perhaps the Dib would like to tell us about the _ Dwayyo, _then, eh?” Zim suggested. Anything to get Dib back to normal again. Even if it meant listening to tales about how Dib had seen one in his kitchen last weekend.

The class abruptly shook their collective reverie and suddenly all eyes were on Dib, who went red and looked down. “I would not.”

“But it’s your _ thing _,” Zim prodded.

“It is _ not _ my thing. I don’t know _ anything _ about it.”  
“But I just saw you with a book of Maryland folklore yesterday --”

“If you two are _ quite _finished,” drawled the teacher, “I’d like to get back to this lesson.”

“Fine by me,” Dib muttered, putting his head back down.

Zim frowned, and then proceeded to draw Dib stalking Bigfoot for the rest of the class. As the bell rang, Zim held his drawing up with a grin, but Dib was already out the door.

The two of them had all the same classes together -- a coincidence Zim put down to the fact that the school could only afford one of each upper level course, and he was not about to be stuck with the likes of Torque Smacky if he could help it -- but Dib made a point to put as much space as possible between himself and Zim for the rest of the day, sitting across the room and then darting out the door as soon as the bell rang. Zim thought for sure he could ambush Dib at his locker at the end of the day, but after five minutes of waiting, he still hadn’t shown up. Frustrated, Zim marched out in front of the school, where he finally spotted Dib’s trademark coat rounding the side of the building. Zim figured he must have taken one of the side exits in order to completely avoid the wing their lockers were in.

“Dib-beast!” Zim shouted, jogging to catch up with his trudging nemesis.

Dib glanced sideways at Zim without stopping, forcing Zim to pick up the pace. “What?” he asked, flatly. He seemed too tired to be angry. “You’ve been following me and harassing me and calling me names all day. What do you want?”

Zim hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Sulking because you can’t figure out my latest _ ingenious plan, _I see,” he tried. Dib just rolled his eyes without breaking his stride.

“I am so tired of your stupid plans, Zim. It’s like you only ever do this anymore just to get a rise out of me.”

“I do _not_ and it is _not_ _stupid_ \--”

“Fine. _Whatever,” _Dib snapped with an exaggerated shrug. “Go ahead and blow up the earth with … explosive rubber ducks or whatever stupid plan you’ve come up with now. If you’re successful, you have my thanks,” he added bitingly.

Zim narrowed his eyes. “And just what is _ that _supposed to mean?”

“_ God _, Zim. Just forget it, okay?”

“No. Explain yourself.”

“Why are you following me? Isn’t your house in the _ other _direction?”

“We’re discussing you right now, Dib-shit. Not me. Explain yourself to Zim.”

Dib spun on his heels and screeched to a halt before Zim had time to react. “I said, back off!” He shoved Zim, hard, and Zim reflexively grasped at the closest thing to prevent himself from careening backwards. Unfortunately, the closest thing happened to be the cuff of Dib’s coat. Zim hit the ground with a pained “oof!” followed by an even more pained squeak as Dib toppled down on him.

“What … the _ FUCK _ , Zim?” Dib growled as he got his arms under him. Zim shrunk back almost imperceptibly. He’d never heard Dib so genuinely furious before. Dib moved to stand up, his arm out of the sleeve Zim was still holding. “Let go and leave me alone, already. You are _ SUCH _ a pain in my ass.”

Zim, still lying on his back, held the sleeve tighter and glared. “No; you’ve been sulking around for weeks. You don’t get to leave until you explain yourself.”

“I’m not sulking!”

“Are too.”

“Whatever … It’s none of your business whether I’m sulking or not!” Dib sputtered.

“This entire _ planet _ is my business, Dib-human. That includes you,” Zim quipped, snidely.

Dib quickly slid his other arm out of his coat and jumped to his feet, grabbing Zim by the collar of his tunic and suspending him a solid foot above the ground. 

“Unhand Zim, you stupid —” He looked down and suddenly stopped short, eyes traveling up Dib’s now-exposed arm. It was marked with wounds in various states of healing. White, ropey scars intercut with fresh pink skin, and — most worryingly — scabbed-over red lines that cut angry, horizontal paths across Dib’s thin wrist. It occurred to Zim that he’d never seen Dib without his coat on before. His eyes finally met Dib’s and he stared up at him in confusion. 

“I didn’t do any of this. Who hurt you?”

“The fact that you have to clarify should speak volumes about why I don’t want to talk to you right now, Zim,” Dib replied flatly. “Don’t pretend like you care. Didn’t you throw me in a dumpster last week?”

“After you stole my Squidgyblit!”

“Right, a proportional reaction as always,” Dib scoffed, letting Zim drop to his feet. 

“Oh that’s _ absolutely hilarious _ coming from someone who tried to kidnap and dissect the new kid right off the bat!” Zim snapped back.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re an _ alien invader! _” 

They squared up again and a few passing students suddenly gave the two a wide berth. 

“You didn’t _ know that _ back then!” Zim countered. “I hadn’t even done anything! You made the worst possible assumption and immediately acted on it, just like you always do!”

“Right, and if I’d only chosen to react differently, we’d be _ best friends _ right now,” Dib said, sarcasm dripping off his words.

“Maybe we’d at least be good enough friends for you to _ tell me who’s been hurting you! _ ” Zim shouted, fists balled up at his sides. He stood there a moment, breathing heavily. Dib made a dismissive noise and looked away. Zim seemed to wilt slightly in response. “Aren’t we at least _ kind of _ friends?” he asked, his tone genuine for the first time all day. “I mean, you said it yourself … We’re friends _ sometimes _, right?”

“_ Friends _ don’t beat the shit out of each other every couple of weeks,” Dib replied icily. “They don’t try to take over each other’s planets. They don’t do homework together one day and then attempt to murder each other the next. You can’t just be friends _ sometimes _.” Dib gave Zim a pained expression, then seemed to deflate. “You’ve been on earth how long and you still just … don’t get people, do you? You beat me up, the other kids beat me up. There’s no real difference between you and them.” He picked up his coat and turned to walk away. 

In a last ditch effort, Zim scampered in front of him to block his path.

“Did one of the other humans did this to you?” he asked, still undeterred by Dib’s blatant aggression.

“Why do you _ care _?” Dib shouted, ready to be done with the whole situation.

“I don’t care,” Zim vollied reflexively.

“Then _ fucking act like it _!”

They stood there a moment, Zim blocking Dib’s path and Dib shooting Zim a look that could cut diamonds. Finally, Dib shook his head dismissively and moved to skirt around Zim.

“This conversation is over. Go the fuck home.”

“But—” Suddenly he was seeing stars and the ground shot up and knocked the air out of him. 

If he had a nose, Dib almost certainly would have broken it. He’d been hit much harder than this before, even just counting his previous all-out fights with Dib. But something about this punch hurt much worse than anything else ever had.

Zim’s vision swam. Dib stood over him, backlit by the afternoon sun in a way that was oddly threatening. “Get out of my face, Zim. I’m sick of this. We’re done.” He spun around and quickly marched down the street in the direction of his house. Zim could only watch from the ground as Dib disappeared from view.

He sighed and lay there in the dirt, gently rubbing the stinging spot between his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he spent a week sporting a black eye because of Dib but he had to ask himself if it was really worth the trouble at this point.

“I _ don’t _ care,” he mumbled to himself, but even with no one to call him on it, the words felt like a lie.

Ever since he found out -- no, _ was forced to confront _ the fact that his mission was all some horrible joke, most of the wind had gone out of his sails as far as world domination. Every now and then, he would be hit with a plan so utterly _ brilliant _, he could convince himself that it would compel the Tallest to take him back and make him a real Invader. But even then, everything always blew up in his face. Often quite literally. Zim had to wonder at this point if his own ingenious brain was sabotaging him. The only time he felt anything these days was when he was fighting Dib, and even that was starting to get confusing. The strange way his insides twisted when he saw Dib, and the way his heart plummeted right into his boots when they inevitably ended up yelling and brawling. Despite their overwhelming similarities, they just couldn’t seem to stop fighting long enough to bond over anything. 

He shook his head and slowly got to his feet. The most important person in Zim’s life was _ Zim _ . He supposed it only made sense that he’d take a _ passing _ interest in someone who reminded him of himself. Though not quite as smart. Or talented. Or good-looking. 

… Okay, perhaps Dib was a _ bit _good-l—

“Nope!” Zim said aloud to himself, startling several of his classmates as he made his way off the school grounds. He paused a moment at the front gates, then decided to walk towards Dib’s house. The sooner he could get things back to normal, the sooner he could get these confusing thoughts out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise these chapters get longer.
> 
> Also no one will get where my stupid Dwayyo joke came from. I suspect the Venn diagram for people who ship ZaDR and people who listen to the Brohio Podcast is like … two circles on opposite sides of the page. With me in the middle.


	3. Shut Up and Let Me Fix You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another TW/CW for self harm topics and blood. I swear this gets fluffy eventually.  
*********************************************  
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* * *

_ It's the right time for the wrong intentions  
_ _ I'd die just to cut the tension  
_ _ Why try to hide behind my eyes  
_ _ Breathe, sigh, inhale another lie  
_ \- [Attica Riots, ](https://soundcloud.com/attica-riots/misery-1) [ __ Misery ](https://soundcloud.com/attica-riots/misery-1)

* * *

Zim walked up to the Membrane house from the sidewalk, looked around and — spotting no one — crossed the grass and approached the building from the side. He had no interest in dealing with the Professor today. Though the human seemed to like him just fine (despite his and Dib’s tumultuous history), Zim knew that he was going to have to catch Dib unawares if they were going to get anywhere, as giving Dib any advanced warning meant giving him time to take evasive action. He hoped Dib had left a window open … Friends did that, right? Drop in through each other’s windows? Zim thought he recalled that from some of the movies he’d watched with GIR. 

He scaled the side of the building with his PAK legs, peering into the second floor windows. Most of the rooms looked fairly bland and moderately tidy. They definitely didn’t belong to Dib, then. He moved to the other side of the house. The first window he came upon was blocked by a massive stack of moldy-looking books. Zim could barely see anything inside because of the dark blue walls soaking up the golden sunlight. This had to be it.

Zim gently attempted to pry one of the windows open but it wouldn’t budge. He moved to the next, which appeared to be locked as well.

“I thought humans  _ liked  _ the fall breeze,” he grumbled as the third window also refused to yield. Perhaps Dib hadn’t come home yet? He poked his head up and looked around again, just in time for Dib to turn his music on full blast. Which was still not quite loud enough to drown out his scream-singing. Zim cringed; Greenday he could handle. Dib attempting to sing along to  _ Boulevard of Broken Dreams _ , not so much.

Zim sighed and slowly clambered back down the wall of the house, dropping behind some begonias and making his way over to the front door. He poked at the doorbell and attempted to appear nonchalant.

The door cracked open and Zim immediately launched into his spiel. “Hello! I am a friend of the Dib and I —”

“Oh. Hey, Zim,” said Gaz from the doorway, before looking back down at the game she was playing. 

Zim relaxed. “Dib-sister! Perfect. I was worried it would be the tall one. I wish to speak with the Dib.”

“He’s up in his room,” Gaz replied, still otherwise occupied.

“Yes, I know. He keeps the windows all locked,” Zim replied matter-of-factly. 

Gaz looked up momentarily and gave Zim a quizzical look before casting her gaze back down again. “Ooookay. Look, he’s the second door up there on the right. Just use the stairs like a normal person. Please.”

“I am —”

“ _ A perfectly normal human worm baby, _ ” she parroted, motioning him to hurry up and get his ass inside. “I know. Though somehow the least believable part of this is that Dib has friends.”

Zim paid the last bit no mind as he made his way into the house and ascended the stairs. He quickly reached Dib’s door, debating whether or not to knock. The door was vibrating from the bass of something predictably angry by MSI. The music was so loud, he doubted Dib would be able to hear him anyway. He grasped the doorknob, then froze, feeling his guts twinge nervously. What was the matter with him? Perhaps he really had picked up some human disease.

He took a calming breath, turned the knob quietly, and peered inside.

Late afternoon light filtered through the windows, doing little to illuminate the darkly decorated bedroom. Piles of clothing and ancient tomes and strange objects were precariously piled on every available flat surface. Zim glanced around, momentarily confused at the apparent lack of Dib. His bed was empty but his coat was hung up on the bed frame.

Zim took a cautious step forward, trying to avoid stepping on anything that looked like it might be either particularly important or dangerous. One of the piles of clothes stirred slightly on the floor, and Zim froze as Dib raised his head and blearily looked around. He turned down the music and searched around in the chaos for his glasses. 

“Gaz, what did I tell you about knocking?” he said, irritably. 

He finally fished his glasses out of the mess, and he sprung into a sitting position when he realized who was standing in his doorway. “ _ Zim?? Why are you in my house?? _ ”

Zim quickly closed the door behind him to muffle what was clearly about to be a screaming match. He put his hands up in surrender as he slowly approached. “Dib, I just —”

“Why are you in my  _ ROOM _ ??” Dib leapt to his feet, wobbled, and blinked stars out of his eyes. 

“I … well … I used the stairs,” Zim said, exasperated. As if that made it better.

He suddenly noticed the strange way Dib was carrying himself, with one arm cradled protectively up against his chest. 

“You need to leave,” Dib said darkly, motioning towards the door with a jerk of his head. “ _ Now. _ ”

Zim wasn’t listening. He staring at Dib’s shirt, the way the light shone off a few darker patches in the fabric. He took a step forward and Dib leaned back.

“I’m warning, you, Zim. If you take another step closer, I’ll—”

“You’re bleeding,” Zim said, softly.

“No, I’m not,” Dib immediately said through gritted teeth.

“ _ Yes _ , you are,” Zim insisted, stepping closer.

“Get the fuck out of my—!!” 

Zim grabbed him by the elbow and — with startling force — wrenched an arm free. Blood ran down from Dib’s wrist and Zim’s grip softened. He let out the quietest “oh, no …” Dib had ever heard, and his expression changed to one Dib couldn’t quite read. It was something softer than pity, with a slight note of curiosity. 

Dib pulled his arm back and held it against his chest, looking down to avoid Zim’s violet gaze.

“Who did that to you?” Zim asked, voice still soft.

“Don’t pretend like you care about me,” Dib shot back in a wounded tone, walking over to his bed where he sat down in a huff. Zim took a few tentative steps towards him. Dib just glowered. 

“I don’t,” Zim started, out of habit. He gave Dib pitying look and sighed, relaxing his defensive posture. “But I did come all the way here, so you may as well tell me.”

“What, so you can use it against me later?” Dib snarled, looking like injured, cornered animal as he cradled his arm against his chest.

Zim ran a frustrated hand through his hair, knocking his wig slightly askew. “Look, just tell me. So I can go back to not caring,” he said with a wave of his hand. 

_ Look at Zim. Not caring. _

“Fine.” Dib looked up, giving Zim a challenging glare. “I did it to myself.” He almost hoped Zim would say something disparaging so he would have an excuse to chew him out again. He wasn't quite sure what to do with Zim's aggressive concern.

Zim’s brows knit together and he regarded Dib with nothing but pure confusion. Self-harm had never even crossed his mind as an option. “Huh? Why would …”

“Because I hate myself, Zim,” he spat. The malice dripping from his words seemed to startle Zim a bit, as he shrunk back slightly. “I just … I hate myself even more than I hate  _ you _ . Even more than everyone  _ else _ hates  _ me _ . I mean, Gaz and my dad … even  _ they _ don’t want me around. I think they’d be happier if I … if I …” his words suddenly caught in his throat. Zim stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Dib folded over on himself and started bawling. 

_ Well.  _

That sure wasn’t something he had planned for. He briefly considered legging it back to his base and leaving Dib be, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this might be the last time he ever saw Dib if he did that. 

Besides … Zim was in charge of annihilating Dib. Dib was not allowed to do that himself.

He silently crossed the room, keeping a wary eye on Dib’s shaking form. He slowly sat down on the bed and watched Dib grow tense, but make no move to get further away.

“Give me your arm again, please,” Zim requested gently, holding out a hand. Dib shrank back and Zim sighed, putting his four-fingered hand on top of Dib’s clenched fist. “I just need to see how bad your wounds are. Please.” Dib relaxed and allowed Zim to move his arm. He kept his face obscured and snuffled loudly between sobs. 

“Is it just the one arm?”

Dib nodded. 

He pulled Dib’s arm closer and winced as he watched blood ooze out of the sharp, almost clinical cuts.

“Scalpel?” Zim asked, gently turning Dib’s arm.

“Razor blade,” Dib sniffled.

Zim grimaced. “That’s not very clean … and these should have clotted by now. This will need stitches. I can take you to a hospital ...”

At that, Dib shot up and pushed himself frantically back towards the wall, dripping blood on the front of Zim’s tunic in the process. “No! No no no … I can’t go to the hospital, Zim! I can’t! My dad … he …” Dib collapsed into a sobbing heap again, leaving Zim wide eyed and out of his depth.

“They’ll put me in the psych wards and I can’t go back there!!” He was sobbing harder than ever, and Zim felt his heart plummet into his boots despite himself. He remembered the last time Professor Membrane had allowed his son to be carted off there. The Dib who had come back had been quiet and reserved for weeks before slowly coming back out of his shell. Zim slowly inched back to where Dib had curled around himself. He was glad Dib wasn’t looking up since his face no doubt looked equal parts terrified and repulsed, but he gave Dib a tentative pat on the shoulder and waited out the worst of the crying.

“Look, I won’t let anyone lock you up,” Zim said quietly.

Dib hiccuped and cast a suspicious glance over his arm.

“But those cuts are pretty bad and if you won’t let me bring you to a hospital, I’m going to need to bring you back to my base so I can stitch you up.”

Dib looked up, breath still hitching, face dripping and his eyes bloodshot from sobbing. 

“Ew,” muttered Zim. “You’re going to have to do something about all  _ that _ , first. I don’t mind the blood but …”

“I’m not letting you bring me to your base, Zim,” Dib sniffled with a scowl.

Zim shrugged. “Your choice, Dib. Hospital or my base. But I’m not letting you sit here and slowly bleed out like a stuck pig.”

“I wish you  _ would _ ,” Dib muttered, darkly. 

Zim slid from the bed. “That is precisely why I won’t allow you to.” He looked thoughtful a moment. “Is it just you and … what’s-her-fuck—”

“Gaz, Zim. My sister’s name is Gaz. How are you so bad at this?”

“Right. Yes. Is it just you and Gaz here for the weekend?”

Dib cast him a worried look. 

“Oh please, Dib-beast. If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already.”

“Oh,  _ that _ inspires confidence,” Dib shot back before slumping, defeatedly, against the wall. “But yeah. It’s just us until Monday.”

“Then grab some … not-bleedy clothes and whatever humans need for the night.” He pulled a communicator from his PAK. “GIR! Prepare a sterile surface and find the medical kit.” He paused a moment. “Okay, no, wait — make  _ yourself _ sterile, then prepare a sterile surface and grab the medical kit. Then stay as far away from all of that as possible.”

“Sir! Yes, sir!” Came the voice on the other end.

Dib still hadn’t moved. Zim gestured for him to get off the bed. “Well, come on! If you haven’t noticed, this is a little time sensitive!”

Dib slid slowly from the bed and grabbed a wad of tissues to mop up his face. “Why overnight things?” he asked, suspicion still heavy on his voice. 

Zim huffed impatiently. “To keep you overnight for observation, so you don’t do anything else stupid. If you won’t let the hospital do it, I guess I’m going to have to,” he said with an eye roll and a long suffering sigh. 

“I think I’d prefer the hospital,” Dib said under his breath as he picked through what he hoped was the freshly laundered clothing. 

“Up to you!” Zim quipped with a shrug. 

“Wait! No!” Dib yelled. He made aggressive eye contact with Zim, who was tapping his foot as a show of his impatience, before finally turning away, grumbling. “Ugh … I guess at least you can’t  _ legally _ keep me hostage.”

“Not legally!” Zim chirped from the other side of his room. 

Dib chose to ignore the implications of  _ that _ and gathered the rest of his things, shoving them in a couple spare Wizardry Shop plastic bags. He turned around to see Zim unlocking and opening the window over his bed.

“Done being difficult?” Zim asked, looking over his shoulder. 

“I’m  _ not _ … ugh … forget it. What are you doing?”

Zim jumped down off the bed and landed in front of him. “We have no time for walking … up you go, Dib-stink!” Before Dib could protest, Zim hoisted him up, bridal-style, and his PAK legs shot out. They clambered over the bed and hurriedly exited the room via the window. As a chilly breeze nipped at Dib’s exposed skin, they made their way above the rooftops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s just no good way to frame it, but I hear Zim saying “I used the stairs” with the same inflection of “I put the fires out” in “The Nightmare Begins”.
> 
> I also have no idea what a begonia is but the flow of the word sounded nice so it’s staying.


	4. Ask Me Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like dramatic, emotional tension? I sure hope so, because this chapter is just thick with it.  
*********************************************  
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* * *

__ Words can get you so far  
__ But they're not gonna heal  
__ All the damage we've done  
_ When battle scars are all we feel  
_ [ \- Me Not You,  __ Bulletproof ](https://soundcloud.com/menotyouband/bulletproof)

* * *

Wind whipped past as Zim spider-crawled across the skyline, hugging Dib to his chest. He was grateful for the breeze. Dib smelled like iron and salt and unwashed t-shirt and sadness, which was all a bit of an olfactory onslaught. He could feel Dib’s blood starting to seep into his tunic and he mentally made plans to incinerate both their clothes.

“Won’t people see us?” Dib asked with a touch of concern as he peered out over the town.

“Nobody on this planet ever looks up,” Zim replied with a smirk.

Dib took in the view as the afternoon sun spilled over his neighborhood. The trees were just beginning to show the slightest hint of turning and the breeze made the foliage dance in the golden sun. Beneath them, cars passed and people watered their lawns and and kids played, never looking up above the horizon. Music and conversations spilled from open windows and the shadows stretched long. It was the part of the year when summer finally gave way to the beginnings of fall and the days were growing perceptibly shorter. Despite the beauty, Dib a slight twinge of anxiety for the coming sunset and subsequent darkness. 

Zim’s grip tightened momentarily as they hurtled between two far-flung rooftops, landing softly and clambering onwards. Dib felt strangely safe in his arch enemy’s arms. Zim held him almost protectively, shielding him from as much of the wind as he could with his small body as they rushed along. Dib slowly looked upwards, still trying to get a read on the strange situation he’d found himself in. Zim eclipsed a sun soaked sky mottled with pink and purple clouds, looking unperturbed as they leapt and scampered across town. Dib allowed himself to relax a bit, just for the moment.

The cool air distracted him from the growing twinge of pain in his arm. The front of his shirt was now undeniably soaked and he realized that if Zim hadn’t insisted on fixing him up, he would probably be starting to panic about now. He had always been good about cleaning and fixing himself up in the past, but he also had always made a point to not do any permanent damage. He’d been so upset this time around that he hadn’t particularly cared if he cut a smidge too deep. He didn’t have a contingency plan for this sort of situation. He pictured himself still curled up on the floor, alone and facing his own mortality, and involuntarily shivered. He really didn’t want to think about how things would have gone if Zim hadn’t shown up.

Thinking about things in general was something Dib tried to avoid doing on principle lately. If he could keep some distance between himself and his thoughts, he could at least continue waking up every morning and going through the motions, even if it sucked. He’d never, in all of his nearly two decades of life, been quite so aware of how being a loner meant you were wholly responsible for your own emotional burden. Dib had a limited ability to talk himself off the proverbial rooftop and that was fast becoming an issue he could no longer ignore. Being alone was one thing. Being alone with his thoughts was entirely another. Though it seemed that, for the next 24 hours at least, he would be neither of those things. And that was somehow a much more frightening prospect. 

Suddenly, the ground went out from under them and they were falling out of the sky. Dib pressed his face into Zim’s tunic and reached for his shoulder with his good arm, bracing for landing. 

With his face this close, he noticed that Zim actually smelled quite nice. Dib had always assumed that Zim literally wore the same clothes every day, but now he figured he must just have an entire closet full of tunics. Or perhaps he just did laundry daily? That would explain why GIR rarely looked terribly dirty … That was a strange thought: Zim, doing laundry. Dib let the absurdity of that mental image push everything else out of his head for a moment.

The PAK legs slowed their impact to the point where there was little more than a slight jolt as they came to a halt. Dib felt Zim’s feet make contact with the ground. He poked his head up to see that they were standing in Zim’s yard, on his quiet cul-de-sac. Zim shifted Dib to get a better hold on him, then marched up and knocked his heel against the door.

“GIR! Get the door, please!”

“You don’t have to keep holding me,” Dib muttered, cheeks flushing.

“I’m not going to have you fainting all over from blood loss and then bleeding all over my floor,” Zim replied as the door opened. “The floor is dirty enough without that.”

“Ooooooh, Master! You brought home a friend!!!” Zim’s poorly disguised robot squealed, jumping and clapping the paws of his green and black dog suit.

“Careful, GIR!” Zim warned as he dexterously edged around GIR to enter the house. “He’s broken … just like everything else in this fucking house,” he muttered to himself. 

GIR shut the door and scampered over to the couch. “I was makin’ nacho cheese angels!” he yelled, bouncing happily.

“ _ Before or after _ you cleaned off a space for the medical equipment?” Zim asked with narrowed eyes and a testy tone. 

“After!” GIR yelled, pleased with himself.

“There’s a good GIR,” Zim replied. Dib thought he detected some genuine pride in his voice. GIR turned on the TV and sang nonsensically to himself while Zim carried Dib into the kitchen. The table had a white cloth over it and a small pillow at one end, and a large medical box was sat on one of the chairs. Zim sat Dib atop the table.

“Alright, lie down. I watched you wobble around your room before we left so stop telling me you aren’t a fall risk.”

“Seriously. I’m barely even dizzy. I’m not going to faint,” Dib said irritably, as he dropped his bag on the floor.

Zim rifled in one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a small lollipop, which he handed to Dib.

“What’s that for?” Dib asked, taking it with a skeptical look. 

“For your blood sugar. So you don’t faint,” Zim replied with a toothy grin. He tapped Dib’s forehead. “Now lie down.”

Dib scowled, but popped it in his mouth and laid back, compliant. It tasted sweeter than he expected, not like anything he’d ever had before.

“Hey, what brand is this?”

“Nothing you’d be familiar with -- it’s from Irk.” As an afterthought he added, “Oh, take your shirt off, as well.”

Dib narrowed his eyes. “Why?” He already felt close enough to naked without his coat. If he had to go much longer even with only his arms exposed, he was pretty sure he’d have an even bigger mental breakdown. 

“Because it’s gross,” Zim said. “It’s covered in blood and stinks like you haven’t washed it in a week. I can smell it from here.”

Dib started to say that Zim smelled gross, but stopped himself. He hated that he now knew that wasn’t true. He settled for shooting Zim an unhappy look, then gingerly pulled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor, where it hit with a wet flop. Dib’s chest was streaked with red but the flow from his arm seemed to have stymied a bit by that point.

Zim popped his contacts and wig off, storing them in his PAK. He glanced over to see Dib staring, wide-eyed. “You look like you’ve never seen an alien before,” Zim said with a smirk, his antennae held aloft. 

“Honestly? This is somehow less disconcerting,” Dib admitted, still taking in the scene in front of him with blatant curiosity.

Zim pulled his gloves off, then went to wash his hands. Dib looked on, mentally taking notes. Never mind the fact that he rarely saw Zim without his disguise. He’d never seen Zim so casually just …  _ existing _ as himself. Without the human facade, he actually seemed more relaxed and normal. He returned with pink, 4 fingered gloves on and Dib stifled a laugh. 

“What?” Zim asked as he pulled them on.

Dib smiled, one of the first genuine and positive expressions Zim had witnessed on his face in a while. “Nothing, just … appreciating your pink rubber gloves.”

“They’re better than the boring human-colored ones,” Zim said with a dismissive sniff. He rifled in his box a moment, pulling out the folding trays and moving some things around, before pulling out a spray bottle and shaking it. “Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen: this topical spray is going to stop the bleeding, numb you up a bit, and sterilize things. Then I can give you a shot of the better numbing agent. Once that’s done, I’m going to clean you up and then stitch you back together. All you have to do is not move or yell so I can do my job.”

“CAN I YELL??” GIR screamed from the other room. 

“No, GIR!” Zim shouted back. “You are also banned from yelling!”

“Oooookayyyyy,” GIR whisper-yelled. And then he turned up the TV. 

Zim turned back to Dib with a long suffering look on his face. 

“Wow, he’s just … always turned up to 11, huh?” Dib asked.

“You have no idea,” Zim grumbled, getting to work. He shook the bottle and then sprayed up and down Dib’s arm. It felt freezing cold, then settled into a comfortably numb buzzing. Dib watched Zim’s large, ruby eyes as the alien rifled through his equipment. His stomach dropped as it slowly dawned on him that he was alone, spread out on a table in an alien base, at the mercy of someone he didn’t trust further than he could throw, with no one to know or care where he’d disappeared to.

He chewed the inside of his cheek worriedly. “You’re not going to, like … dissect me while I’m here, are you?”

Zim’s antennae spring up and Dib bit his lip to keep from nervous-laughing. Even without pupils, Zim-sans-disguise was somehow expressive to the point of being almost amusing.

“Huh. I didn’t even  _ think _ of that …” Zim said with a faraway gaze, a smile slowly forming.

“Uh. Forget I said anything!” Dib replied hurriedly. 

“No, no, I think you’re onto something,” Zim said thoughtfully. “I can numb everything … you wouldn’t feel a thing. You could even watch, if you wanted!” He seemed to be quivering with excitement that he hadn’t yet noticed was not shared by his abductee.

Dib’s eyes widened. “Oh my god ... you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Zim asked, seriously. “Haven’t you ever wanted to see your own squeedlyspooch before?”

Dib’s mouth went dry as he shrunk back. “Um. No. Can’t say I have.”

Zim regarded him curiously for a moment and then shrugged. “Eh. Another time, then. You’re going to be enough of a project as it is.” He pulled out a syringe and Dib blanched, feeling like he might pass out for real.

Zim glanced over at him as he pulled out a vial and prepped the syringe. “Breathe, human. I have enough on my plate just putting you back together after your own misadventures.”

“It’s just,” he started, turning away as Zim filled the needle, “shots are the one thing I can’t really handle. So tell me when you’re done. And I  _ don’t  _ need you on my case about how it’s funny.”

“Funny how?” Zim asked, his tone genuine. Before Dib could find his words, Zim was already talking again. “Alright, if you want to look away, here’s your warning.”

Dib squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pinch. When nothing came, he opened an eye cautiously and looked at Zim. “Would you  _ please _ not leave me hanging like this? It’s just mean.”

Zim waved the empty syringe at him with a grin. “All done!” 

“I told you to tell me when you finished,” Dib grumbled.

“Oh, come on -- aren’t you at least a little bit impressed? You didn’t even feel a thing!”

Dib had to admit that he was, at least, a little bit impressed. And more than a little relieved to see that Zim appeared competent, medically.

He relaxed as much as he could, distracting himself by watching Zim get to work cleaning his wounds. He couldn’t figure out what the strangest bit was; the fact that his arm was so numb he didn’t even feel like he was looking at his own extremity, or that fact that his nemesis was the one fixing him up. Zim, to his credit, seemed to be taking his job seriously. Despite the fact that Dib could feel absolutely nothing, Zim’s movements were small and careful. 

“You’ve had medical training?” Dib asked, in part because he hated silence and in part out of genuine curiosity. He might never get the chance to pick Zim’s brain like this again.

“The basics,” Zim replied, cleaning the last of the blood from Dib’s arm. “Well, the basics that everyone gets as Irken citizens, and then slightly more specialized basics later on, when I eventually went to Invader Training.”

Dib raised his eyebrows. “Eventually? Were you something else before?”

Zim looked up, regarding Dib curiously for a moment, before delving into the box and pulling out a suture kit. “Yes, I was basically military R&D, initially. I engineered things,” he said with a proud little smirk. 

“Oh? Why the career change?”

Zim’s antennae dipped down suddenly at the question and he busied himself with threading a needle, focusing more intently than he needed to. “Let’s just say that they didn’t appreciate my genius,” Zim said, sounding a touch bitter. “So I switched to something where they couldn’t ignore me.”

“Oh,” said Dib softly. He watched Zim’s body language, trying to figure out the most appropriate way to proceed. “You’ve certainly done an awful lot in your life so far,” he said carefully. The compliment came easily since he  _ was _ genuinely impressed, and he recalled that Zim seemed to respond well to praise.

Predictably, Zim perked up a bit and flashed a smile. “Yes, yes I have.  _ Finally _ , someone appreciates my efforts.”

Dib returned the smile, though he was wildly aware that he had just complimented the very person who had been trying to take over his planet for the past few years. He glanced at Zim, trying to reconcile the idea of Zim as a fellow high school senior with the idea of Zim as an alien who was already on his second career.

Dib bit his lip to avoid blurting out the question he desperately wanted to ask. It struck him as a bit rude and he was a little concerned about making Zim stabby, considering his current position.

“Just say it, Dib-monkey,” Zim said suddenly, not breaking from his task. “You make this irritating, high pitched noise when you’re trying not to say something. It’s giving me a headache, so out with it.”

Dib realized his breath had been caught in his throat. He shrunk back and blushed. “You can hear that?”

“Harder to ignore when I’m sitting this close,” he said blithely. Dib was silent and Zim looked up momentarily. “Quit worrying. I’m trying to put you back together, remember?”

Dib tried to read Zim’s expression and failed. “How old are you?” The words tumbled from Dib’s mouth.

“184,” Zim replied without missing a beat.

“What??” That was quite a bit more than he had expected.

“Irkens live for like, a shmillion years,” Zim replied with a small shrug.

“Okay, so what does that make you in human years?”

Zim stared at him blankly. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Dib said, slowly.

“Meh, about that many, then.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No, really. I’ve been studying humans for years, so I would know. And, developmentally, it’s around that much. I  _ think _ …” he trailed off, focusing on tying off the first round of stitches. “We just start in on our careers young. Like if you picked a job in kindergarten.”

“Okay, so you’re like, mostly done growing,” Dib said, shifting slightly.

“Stop moving, smelly,” Zim complained as he started the next round of stitches. He sighed and cast a sidelong look at Dib before continuing. “Yes, this is as big as I get. Thank you for reminding me.”

“... Brain’s probably not fully developed. That explains a lot,” Dib said to himself.

“My brain is several pounds of the finest silicon and metal components Irk has to offer,” Zim shot back.

“But you don’t have, like … a meat brain?” Dib said, stupidly. He mentally kicked himself.

“Of course I have a …  _ a meat _ brain, human,” Zim replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s mostly … auxiliary. More often than not, it’s just an interface for the PAK. Holds some short term information if I’m ever split from my PAK but since I’m dead without that, my biological brain doesn’t have much purpose on its own.”

Dib was quiet for a moment, watching Zim take advantage of the lull to continue delicately sewing him back up. 

“You really sliced yourself up, here,” Zim commented without looking up. “It’s going to be a while yet. Keep the questions coming. They amuse me.”

Dib looked up, suspicious. “Why are you letting me ask all this?”

Zim paused and met his gaze, unperturbed. “You were finally feeling a little better, weren’t you? Your mopiness was getting grating.” 

Dib looked chastised.

“Stop acting like this is all some big ruse to kill you.”

Dib raised his eyebrows but stayed silent.

“Come on,” Zim coaxed. “I’m offering you anything you’ve ever wanted to know.”

“Um, okay,” Dib hemmed, thinking. “Do you have a family? A partner? Kids? That would make you older than me on a human scale, probably.”

Zim snorted. “Those aren’t things on Irk. You get grown in some vat, then spit out a tube and have a PAK thrown on you and you join the rest of the smeets in your age group and start downloading information. The Control Brains like to keep it simple.”

Dib thought for a moment, debating whether or not this was a path he wanted to go down. “So no, like, relationships, or..?”

“You are  _ really _ trying to make me regret giving you this opportunity, aren’t you?”

“Sorry …”

“Relationships …” Zim looked up and regarded him as if he were trying to decipher something behind his eyes. The intensity in Zim’s liquid ruby gaze was thoroughly disconcerting and Dib looked away, suddenly feeling like he was being mentally dissected. 

“Not in the sort of … deep and complicated way that humans do,” Zim said, eventually. Something about the way he said that made Dib curious, despite the fact that he felt he was rapidly digging himself a hole he feared he wouldn’t be able to climb back out of. 

_ Fuck it — we’re digging to China.  _

“What do you mean?” Dib prodded, wondering if he would live to regret this.

Zim sighed and gave him a withering look. “We are still  _ mostly _ biological creatures with biological needs. You do the math.”

“Oh …  _ oh _ ,” Dib said, blushing.

“Except me. I don’t have time for those sorts of … shenanigans,” Zim said, snipping the end of the most recent suture with a flourish and a self-satisfied smirk.

“So would that make you asexual or just a late bloomer?” Dib kicked himself as soon as he said it. He really wished he would develop a filter before it got him killed.

Zim shot him a look and took a calming breath before putting anything sharp close to his skin. Dib was grateful for the uncharacteristic restraint. “Why does  _ that _ matter?”

“I’m trying to figure out where you fall on the human age scale, remember?”

“Okay but  _ you _ don’t have feelings for anyone of your species,” Zim shot back in a moderately defensive tone.

“Yeah,” Dib huffed. “I’ve already been told I’m weird and I don’t need some alien judging my love life as well. Also how the fuck would  _ you _ know what I do or don’t feel?”

Zim gave him a stony look for a moment, shoulders hunched defensively. He took a deep breath and suddenly his entire demeanor changed, fast enough to give Dib emotional whiplash.

“I just know,” Zim said innocently, without looking up. 

The sudden change in demeanor made all of Dib’s barriers suddenly snap back into place. “Yeah, right … You’re like  _ the worst _ at observing human behavior.” He turned to face the other direction, cheeks burning.

“I’ll let that slide for now but you need to stay still,” Zim warned. He gave the back of Dib’s head a pointed look. And then, because Dib couldn’t see him, he gave the back of Dib’s head a pointed poke with his finger. “ _ You _ don’t even seem to like other humans for friendship. It’s not that difficult to figure out you don’t care for any of them at all.” He started on the next set of stitches before continuing, as innocently as possible, “The only person you spend any time on is, well …  _ me _ .”

It felt like all the air had abruptly gone out of the room. Dib’s face suddenly darkened and he turned back towards Zim. “What are you getting at?” Anxiety flared in his chest as he felt the two of them rapidly moving in a direction they couldn’t turn back from.

“I’m just saying,” Zim began flippantly, keeping his eyes on his work, “that I’m the  _ only one _ you seem to expend any energy pursuing.”

Dib was too gobsmacked to speak. When he finally found his tongue, he spit out a hasty and defensive, “I don’t  _ like _ you, Zim.”

Zim just shrugged coyly, his expression infuriatingly innocent. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“I want to ... cut you open and display your insides in a museum,” Dib sputtered.

“ _ That’s _ awfully intimate.”

“I’m not fucking  _ into you _ , Zim!” Dib yelled, suddenly sitting up and slamming his fist on the table. The suture Zim had been working on pulled and Dib’s wrist split open again, spilling blood down his arm. Zim fumbled for the gauze. 

“Dammit, Dib-worm! You’re bleeding all over again! Stay still when I’m trying to fix you!” He made a grab for Dib’s elbow.

Dib shied out of the way of Zim’s grasp and held his arm protectively against his chest, needle still swinging from the thread in his arm. “What is your  _ deal _ ?” he yelled. “You  _ break into my house _ —”

“For the last time,  _ I used the stairs! _ ”

“ _ —kidnap _ me—”

“You came  _ willingly _ , liar!”

“—and then try to  _ put the moves on me _ ?”

“What ‘moves’? I’m trying to fix you, you  _ ingrate _ !”

“— After  _ how many _ years of  _ trying to murder me _ ??”

Zim stood up in a flash. He reached over and pushed Dib back down onto the table so slowly that Dib thought being slammed against the surface would be somehow less menacing. Zim stared down at Dib and pinned him, one hand against Dib’s chest, expression unreadable. 

“When I tell you not to yell or move, you do not yell or move,” Zim hissed, leaning in close.

Dib went silent and still, suddenly too terrified to breathe.

“I need you to realize I am holding back,” Zim said, dark anger seething just below the surface of his words. “I could hurt you. I could break you. I could kill you if I wanted. So if I were  _ trying to murder you _ , you’d know it. Because you’d be  _ dead _ .” Dib’s breathing quickened as Zim pressed down harder and he leaned in closer, his tone icy. He was so close now that his eyes filled almost the entirety of Dib’s vision. “Every time you walked away from a battle still breathing,  _ I was holding back _ . And I am holding back  _ now _ , when I am trying to rescue you from your own  _ stupid _ actions and you spit in the face of my efforts.”

Dib sat frozen under Zim’s palm, heart hammering away in his chest and eyes wide, terrified to break contact with Zim’s icy glare. He felt Zim’s fingers twitch angrily against his skin before Zim pulled his hand back and turned away abruptly. He walked off and Dib was momentarily concerned that Zim had just left him there, half-fixed and oozing blood. He watched out of the corners of his vision as Zim pulled his gloves off and disposed of them, re-washed his hands, and retrieved a new pair of gloves. He returned, looking eerily calm, and reached for Dib’s wrist. Dib flinched, but Zim merely extended his arm out on the table. He then pressed a wad of gauze against it, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding. The motion was shockingly gentle in contrast to his previous display of barely contained rage. 

“I am not here to ‘put the moves’ on you. I am not here because I ‘care’ about you. Somewhere along the line, it just became too boring for me to take over the earth without you there  _ trying _ to foil my plans.” He stared Dib in the eyes again, but most of the fire seemed to have gone out. He just seemed tired and a touch bitter. “You’re only here because you amuse me and my mission would be a bore without your pitiful attempts at defeating me. Remember that.”

An uneasy silence fell over them. Dib could taste the adrenaline as his heart pounded away in his chest. Zim, with his fingers against Dib’s pulse, could no doubt feel it as well. If Dib didn’t want to die earlier, he sure did now. How did they always circle back around to hurting each other? How did they go from semi-friendly banter to Dib almost getting his ass kicked? Why were they  _ like this _ ?

Zim lifted the gauze, dabbed around the cut, then quietly got back to work. Dib didn’t dare make a sound as Zim finished fixing him up. Zim’s antennae stayed low, but his face remained almost irritatingly neutral. Dib thought he saw Zim’s eyes flick in his direction a couple times, but it was hard to tell where, exactly, his gaze was directed.

Just as Dib’s muscles began to cramp and he became uncomfortably aware he needed to pee, Zim snipped off the end of the suture with a curt, “There.” Dib still didn’t dare move, watching as Zim pulled out a roll of stretchy fabric. Zim delicately slid his hand under Dib’s, thumb resting in his palm. Inadvertently, Dib’s hand twitched so that his fingers gently closed around Zim’s thumb. 

Zim was strangely still a moment, appearing to examine their almost-clasped hands before giving his head a small shake and lifting Dib’s arm so he could bandage the wounds. He proceeded in silence, slowly winding the bandage down Dib’s arm and lightly pressing the edges down so that it formed a seal. 

Watching him and sensing the strangely melancholy energy in the room, Dib began to feel slightly bad about his outburst. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d somehow managed to hurt Zim’s feelings.

“That bandage is self adhering and waterproof. Just don’t tug at it. There’s an actual bathroom on the first subfloor.” 

Dib flinched as Zim suddenly dropped his plastic bag of belongings directly on his face. 

“Go get cleaned up so you stop sullying my house with your human-stink.”

Okay, maybe Dib didn’t feel  _ that  _ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Nobody ever looks up.” What did I steal that from? Something I read as a kid … A Narnia book? The Last of the Very Great Wangdoodles? Something by Madeline L'Engle? It had an umbrella in it, whatever it was. And I always made sure to look up after that.


	5. Why Am I Like This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is so short. It was REALLY hard to write. I write Dib as having a lot in common with myself and this chapter made me kinda go to some places I hadn't gone to in a while. At any rate, have some introspective Dib!  
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* * *

_One day I'll be talking on TED  
__About how my youth is dead_  
And I hated myself, I should've loved me instead

[_ _ \- _ _ GIRLI _ _ , Neck Contour _ _](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRl1pjeDf04)

* * *

Dib hated his body. If it wasn’t bad enough that he practically glowed under a blacklight, he’d done quite a number on most of his limbs. The inside of his thighs were marred with hatch marks and burns. There was still a faint “loser” and “freak” he had inadvertently immortalized in his skin during one particularly horrible middle school night. He had scars in all stages of healing up and down both arms. He looked at his bandaged arm and wondered if the ones Zim had stitched back together would heal better or worse than the ones he had tended to on his own.

Externalizing the pain and watching the blood run down his skin was strangely meditative, not to mention, addictive. He wished he could stop hurting himself, but it had turned into something he _ needed _ whenever he had emotions that he just couldn’t process. Which seemed to be more and more, lately. So he’d sit down, concentrate all the pain in one area of his body, and let it melt away. And when he was done, he we left feeling empty … if he was lucky. Sometimes he just seemed to be left with a certain type of rare clarity that allowed him to realize just how fucked up and alone and damaged he was.

He stood in front of the mirror, barely able to maintain contact with his own haunted, sleep-deprived gaze. He looked down. Dried blood streaked his chest and there was a small, four-fingered hand print over his breastbone. Dib gently placed his own hand against it.

He didn’t want to think about Zim, but it was kind of unavoidable. Eventually, he was going to have to go back upstairs and deal with whatever was going on between the two of them. He closed his eyes and ran through the last hour or so … Zim picking him up and whisking him away from his house, carrying him, gently tending to his wounds … Zim trying to get a rise out of him, innocently smiling as he prodded … then holding him down with a kind of barely-restrained rage Dib had never encountered before … 

_ Why, though? _

The more he thought about what Zim had actually said, the stranger the whole thing seemed. What was the point of Zim making sure that Dib knew he kept pulling his punches? Zim had tried to spin it as if he was just toying with Zim all this time, but the whole exchange just made Dib question Zim’s logic and supposed lack of feelings that much more. Especially given the odd trajectory their relationship had been on of late.

At the beginning of their junior year of high school, there had finally been a break in their near-constant rivalry. It had started with the two of them being assigned as partners for their chemistry lab, and slowly continued as they started to work on homework together more often, sit together at lunch, and hide somewhere on the grounds to skip out on gym. Dib stopped seeing their differences as much, and began to see how Zim’s desperation to please his leaders mirrored — much to Dib’s horror — Dib’s own frantic efforts to make his father love him. By the time Dib realized that seeing Zim was often the best part of his day, he had developed complicated, messed up, gay feelings for the alien invader and he didn’t have the requisite coping skills to deal with it in the least. 

This was complicated by the fact that their friendship never fully got off the ground. He had been certain it would when, in the last few weeks of their junior year, he’d skipped gym to go hide in the greenhouse (a not-uncommon occurrence). Zim had disappeared again for the past week, leaving Dib vulnerable to the whims of the rest of his classmates. In the span of that week, he’d been shoved in lockers and toilets, had his glasses broken, been kicked and tripped, and — in one particularly terrifying instance — dangled out of a second story window. He didn’t want to risk getting flattened during whatever barbaric game they were playing that day, so he used his key to get himself into the greenhouse — one of the perks of being horticulture club president and singular member — with the end goal of curling up behind the wheat grass and spending the rest of the day sobbing.

He had just holed up in the corner where he was sure he wouldn’t be seen, when the door opened. He heard it click shut, then a second click as the lock was turned. His heart dropped into his boots and he mentally prepared himself for the beating of his life.

He was taken by surprise when Zim’s voice tentatively called out his name. He stayed hidden and quiet, unsure of what to expect. 

“I saw you come in here, Dib.” Zim looked around but didn’t move from the door. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. Would you please just come out?”

“I’m over here,” he finally replied, just loud enough for his voice to carry.

Zim made his way through the maze of plants, stopping short when he saw the state Dib was in. “You look like shit,” he said with his usual tact, taking in Dib’s black eye and general disheveled appearance.

“Thanks,” Dib said venomously. “Do you believe me now, Zim? This is what happens when you just take off for a week. Where the fuck were you??”

“I had some things to take care of,” he said softly, sitting down beside Dib. “I didn’t think they’d really …” He reached out to touch the bruise pooling beneath Dib’s eye and Dib flinched backwards at the touch.

“But they _ do, _Zim. They do this to me whenever you’re not here. At least when we fight, everyone leaves us alone.” He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. “Every time I’ve tried to fight back against these assholes, I just end up in trouble!”

“Dib …”

“Why are you even here?” he asked flatly, face still hidden.

“I just got back. I was going to try and find you to see if you wanted to skip gym, and I saw you just as you came in here,” Zim explained, watching Dib carefully. Dib’s shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, but he didn’t do anything to acknowledge Zim’s response. “What were you planning to do for the rest of the day?” Zim asked suddenly. 

Dib finally looked up and gave him a strange look. “Hide in here and cry until someone either makes me go to class or I go home?”

“School is for idiots. Let’s just skip the rest of the day.”

Zim stood up and Dib gave him a suspicious look. “And go where? What are you planning?”

“Do you like aquariums?” Zim asked, ignoring the second bit.

“Yes …” Dib replied cautiously.

“Then let’s go. Observe some fish. See those round … dog-fish … thingies that you love so much.”

“Seals?”

“Yes. Those things.” He offered a hand to pull Dib to his feet.

“Why?”

Zim looked away and mumbled unhelpfully. “I … Ugh … look, I feel bad, okay? For your face.”

“For my … ?” Dib pointed to his black eye.

“Yeah. For that. I shouldn’t have left you.” Zim sighed. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll break in and change your attendance record, even.”

That was a thing that Dib was more than capable of doing himself, but he had to admit it was a nice gesture nonetheless. With a sigh, he finally took Zim’s hand and stood up. “Alright. But those seals had better be there.”

That day was one of the best in Dib’s recent memory. It was the first time he could recall actually spending a day out with someone he could reasonably call a friend. He and Zim had gone the entire day chatting amicably and Zim even treated him to lunch. Spending time with Zim felt easy and natural. But Zim was consistently inconsistent and Dib never quite knew what to expect from him. Sure, following that day, he was often more friendly for longer periods, but he still had phases where he would suddenly revert back to his old self, planning to subjugate Earth in the name of the Irken Empire. This would usually lead to Dib trying to stop him, and then a week or two of no-holds-barred fighting. Each time it happened, it hurt Dib worse, psychologically. As much as he cared about Zim, he couldn’t afford to act on it. Zim couldn’t be trusted with his _ own _ emotional wellbeing, much less anyone else’s.

They had been right in the thick of another rough patch on the morning that Dib’s father had sat him down to discuss college applications. Dib had been hoping he could quietly apply to some colleges that offered cryptozoology classes on the other end of the country, but suddenly he found himself having to admit to his father that he found most mainstream science to be rigid and unimaginative and all he really wanted in life was to hunt ghosts and be the first person to prove the existence of Bigfoot. This had lead to a fight so explosive, Dib ended up leaving home at 6am to walk to school without any of his things.

Zim seemed to pick up on Dib’s overwhelming depression and, to his credit, had decided to cool it on the whole rivalry end of things. However, he’d compensated by being even more annoying than ever. Tossing notes at Dib during class, sitting next to him at lunch and then prattling on about the most mundane things, turning up in Dib’s hiding spots when Dib skipped class, and when none of that provoked a _ positive _ reaction, he would revert back to trying to get _ any _reaction. 

At the time, though, Dib had just found the change in behavior irritating and highly suspect. But now … Most of his actions, in retrospect, were very clearly Zim caring and not quite being sure how to show it. He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d come to school after yet another argument with his father, eyes red from sobbing, and Zim had spotted him from all the way across the green, sprinted over, and started babbling some nonsense about needing help with their calculus homework. It wasn’t how a normal high schooler would have acted upon seeing someone they knew in a bad way. But Dib supposed it was perfectly reasonable way to expect an alien who sucked at human interaction to attempt to show compassion.

He sighed, still unable to trust his own mind, and turned on the shower. His thoughts wandered back to the careful, almost loving way Zim tended to his wounds. Even when Dib had predictably flipped out, Zim didn’t hurt him. Menace him? Sure. Threaten him a bit? Yeah, what else was new? But Zim had collected Dib like a precious package and fixed him up with minimal insults and complaining. (Really, the best one could expect from Zim.) Either he had genuine feelings for Dib, or else whatever he was planning was worth being close enough to Dib to make him gag for several hours.

He let his mind wander to the impossible future where Zim did have complicated, messed up, gay feelings for him as well. What would his dad think? Dib was already treated as the black sheep, the professional fuck-up of the family. If his dad had it out for him just for having a passion for the paranormal, what would he think about his son being gay? Worse, gay for the person Dib had insisted ws an alien for the past 6 years? He could just imagine ending up out on his ass before he even graduated from high school. 

At any rate, he was getting way ahead of himself. Zim wasn’t likely to even want to spend the weekend on the same floor together unless Dib came back fluffy and sparkling clean and brimming with apologies.

Dib did his best to clean every square inch of his body. On the off chance Zim did have romantic ulterior motives, he at least wanted to avoid any smell-based insults. The apologies, however, were going to be a little bit more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think being around Zim is a little like being around a toddler. He just doesn't know how to be a person half the time. Even attempts to be helpful turn into "Hey ... hey ... HEY!!! Lookit me!!!!" 
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be longer and HOPEFULLY what you've all been waiting for ^ω^


	6. Together, We Make One Functional Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything you've been waiting for.  
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* * *

__ Oh, I'm just tryna introduce you  
__ To this idea that I've grown used to  
_ It's like sharing a dream with someone  
_ __ Once you say it out loud, it can't be undone

[ \- half•alive,  _ The Fall _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FzrD47v0zE)

* * *

Humans sure were both incredibly fragile and yet strangely resilient, Zim thought as he curled up on the couch, scrolling through a rather unhelpful guide on suicidal ideation and what to do about it. If nothing else, his base  _ did _ seem to be the perfect place to keep Dib safe from himself. Zim had none of the usual suicide tools available; no medications or sharp knives (GIR couldn’t be trusted with them) or alcohol (yuck… ) or ropes. So long as he kept Dib out of the sub basement where he kept the doomsday weapons …

He pulled up the cameras on his tablet, just to be sure Dib hadn’t wandered. Wander the base was pretty much all Dib had endeavored to do for years, and here Zim was just turning him loose like some sort of madman.

He sighed a moment, fingers faltering on the camera panel. Why did he care so much? Why did he go to all the trouble — and it was, indeed,  _ an ordeal _ — of bringing Dib back home and making Dib  _ his _ problem? Zim also had to ask himself what the hell he thought he was doing earlier, trying to get Dib to confess his undying love for him. Zim definitely assumed that the strength of Dib’s hate for him had to be undercut with  _ some _ sort of positive emotion, or else they wouldn’t keep yo-yoing back and forth the way they had been. He had to ask himself if he  _ wanted _ Dib to love him.

Thinking about feelings was giving Zim a headache. He had spent so long trying to convince himself that he only cared about Dib because he needed a bit of a challenge. He’d only recently come around to the idea of Dib as a possible friend. But now … he wasn’t quite sure what he felt or what he wanted, much less what Dib felt or wanted. He poked at the bathroom camera, just in time to see Dib step out of the shower.

_ Perfect _ . Surely if he had any sort of romantic inclination towards Dib, he would be feeling … feeling …

_ Oh, no. _

That strange feeling — one he could now begin to identify as being a mix of both want and desperation — stirred deep within him again. He wasn’t quite sure he liked where this was going. Dib was smelly and loud and moody and just generally difficult to deal with. So why did Zim feel so strangely drawn to him? Where was this feeling even  _ coming from?  _

He gently touched a finger to the screen.

_ Dammit. _

He angrily flipped away from the feed, poking at various other camera feeds around the house and swiping through them aimlessly.

Maybe, just maybe, if he had Dib sitting beside him, he could sort this out. Maybe these feelings weren’t what he suspected they were. Zim had never even had a real friend; maybe these were just normal beginning-of-friendship feelings. Yes. Normal beginning-of-friendship feelings that were brought on particularly strong after hot, steamy showers. 

Zim sat back a moment and did something he never did: attempt to identify what,  _ exactly _ , was going on in his head. More than any other emotion, he was definitely still  _ upset _ with Dib for turning everything on its head and fucking things up like he always did. If he hadn’t gone and gotten all  _ lippy _ , Zim would never have been forced to torment him back! After all, isn’t that what caused them to become mortal enemies in the first place? Dib’s utterly unhinged antagonism?

He leaned back against the couch. He was tired of all the back and forth, and the fighting, and the not-fighting only to start fighting some more shortly after. Just where was this going to  _ end _ ? When one of them  _ died _ ? Zim had to admit he didn’t want  _ that _ . Not anymore, at least. Sure, there might have been a time when he would have done anything to get Dib out of the way, but in retrospect, he had to admit that some part of him had  _ always _ pulled punches just a little. Maybe he was going to have to be the one to put an end to all this nemesis nonsense. Dib certainly couldn’t be expected to, at this point. 

It was settled, then. When Dib came back, Zim would be nice. He’d be so  _ fucking nice _ it would knock Dib’s socks right off. No one would  _ ever _ be able to match the levels of niceness Zim would —

“Are you okay?”

“Gah!” Zim startled, dropping his tablet and catching it before it hit the floor. Dib had somehow managed to sneak up on him while he was brooding.

“Fuck, sorry …” Dib said softly, shrinking back.

Zim just glared and went back to swiping aimlessly back and forth on his tablet, mumbling curses in Irken to himself. When Dib just stood frozen in the entryway, Zim eventually give him a sidelong look. “Is that where you plan on spending the rest of the night?” he asked sarcastically.

_ So much for niceness…  _

“No … Sorry … I mean … I didn’t mean to scare you, a moment ago. You just … looked a little ill,” Dib said, gaze downcast.

He had a towel on his head like one of the girls from the 80’s movies GIR loves so much. It was endearing, in a weird way, and made Dib look more vulnerable than he normally did, what with the holes in his ears and all the metal in his face and his black nail polish. Zim sighed and his gaze softened. Dib glanced up and made momentary eye contact before looking away again.

“I’m fine. Just … too much on my mind,” Zim said, his voice low. 

They sat in silence for a moment, avoiding looking at each other and pretending to very intensely examine Zim’s terrible wallpaper. Dib pulled the towel off his head and draped it over his shoulders. His cowlick sprung up and Zim had to suppress the urge to smile like a lunatic as Dib looked over at him, solemn and serious. 

“Why did you bring me here, Zim?” Dib asked, finally. “I know it’s not just about fixing me up — you could have very easily dumped me at a hospital instead of taking me on as your little pet project. You’ve got an ulterior motive.” Before Zim could speak, he added, “No more bullshit about wanting to fight me.”

Zim laughed sadly and looked away. 

“I don’t know,” he said, after a moment of trying to find the right words. 

“Oh, come  _ on _ ,” Dib groaned, exasperated. “You’ve been progressively more and more in my face for the past two weeks. You can’t tell me you don’t know what your deal is.”

“I really don’t!” Zim looked up, desperation and confusion making his eyes seem even larger than normal. “Believe me — it would make all of this a lot easier if I did. But I  _ don’t _ .” He held Dib’s gaze for a moment longer before slumping over and putting his head in his hands.

Whatever reaction Dib had been bracing for, it wasn’t that. It seemed Zim’s earlier display of anger had drained him of any remaining animosity. For the first time Dib could recall, Zim actually looked like his defenses were dropping. Dib had never seen him quite so visibly distressed and anxious. 

“We’ve done this dance a few times now, over the years,” Dib said, carefully. “So excuse me if I’m just …  _ wary _ that you’re going to be right back at it, tormenting me next week. Every time it looks like we might actually be friends, you do something to push me away.” He pursed his lips and gave Zim a wry look. “Often literally.”

“You’re blaming me  _ entirely _ for how things are between us?” Zim asked incredulously. 

Dib shrugged, making aggressive eye contact as he did so.

“Don’t act like you haven’t done your fair share of sabotaging any  _ friendly interactions _ ,” Zim said, bitterness creeping into his tone. “I can think of  _ plenty _ of times you escalated things much further than they needed to go.”

Dib felt his temper flare defensively again. “Says the guy that put me in a holo chamber and made me think I’d lived the life of my dreams, just to get me to confess I’d thrown a muffin at his head during lunch! Or have you forgotten about  _ that  _ petty bullshit?”

“Oh, please! That was back in _middle_ _school_! You’re not genuinely _still mad_ about that, are you?” 

And now Zim was yelling again, too. He was getting very tired of all this yelling.

“Clearly! Or else I wouldn’t have brought it up!” Dib angrily paced around the room. 

Just like that, they were right back where they’d always been.

“You know, I’m doing a lot for you here! A whole  _ awful lot more _ than someone you don’t even see as a friend  _ really should _ . I mean … just … What do you  _ want from me, _ Dib??” Zim yelled, exasperated.

“ _ An apology! _ ” Dib screamed. 

Everything seemed to grind to a halt as he stood in the middle of the living room, breathing heavily and fuming. He watched, with some guilt, as GIR slid from the couch and hurried out of the room. Zim looked like he wanted to do the same. 

“Would it  _ kill you _ to apologize for any  _ one _ of the  _ litany of horrible things _ you did to me? You can’t just decide to be  _ moderately _ nice and expect someone to forget  _ all the fucked up things _ you’ve spent  _ years _ doing! How the hell do you ever expect me to  _ trust you _ ??”

And there it was. Everything that was standing between himself and Zim ever having a normal, non-toxic friendship. Piles upon piles of unaired grievances left to fester in the heat of their resentment.

Zim looked utterly miserable, his antennae pressed flat down the back of his head. “Would it even make a difference?” he asked, so quietly that Dib wasn’t even positive the question was directed at him. “Would it change  _ anything _ between us?”

“Oh, so you care about ‘us’, now?” Dib asked venomously.

Zim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked up at Dib, deep ruby eyes boring into him. “Yes, Dib, I  _ care _ ,” he said, with soft intensity. He gave an exaggerated shrug and a sarcastic smile. “ _ Okay _ ? Are you  _ happy _ now? I said it. I  _ care  _ about you.”

Dib crossed his arms and looked away. 

“And you have to admit that we  _ both _ did fucked up things to each other. I am not,” he started, holding up a finger and cutting Dib off just as he sucked in a deep breath, “I  _ am not  _ trying to excuse myself. I just … I want this to be  _ over _ , alright? For real, this time. I’m so, so sick of doing this dance of truces and then trying to murder each other when we don’t have to.”

“So was I, Zim,” Dib growled. “ _ Ages ago.  _ I’ve tried extending an olive branch  _ so many times _ and you’ve been  _ completely _ uninterested.”

“I don’t think that’s a fair characterization …” Zim started, but a harsh laugh from Dib cut him off.

“Oh, alright then! Can we instead say you were  _ less than enthusiastic _ ?”

“I didn’t know  _ how _ to be friends with you!” Zim admitted, albeit at the top of his lungs. “I  _ still _ don’t! We are standing in my living room  _ yelling at each other  _ — does it look like  _ either of us _ knows at all how to be friends with each other??”

Dib directed a very irate look at the floor.

“Should we start with apologies? Would that make you happy?”

Dib didn’t look like anything would make him particularly happy in that moment.

Zim watched him carefully. “ _ I am sorry _ I used all your life’s dreams against you just to get a stupid confession,” he said, his voice level. 

Dib didn’t look up. 

“Alright, then,” Zim continued. “ _ I am sorry _ I stole your organs.”

Dib fixed Zim with a glare. 

“Fine …  _ I am sorry _ I stole  _ everyone’s _ organs,” Zim said, exasperated. Dib looked away and continued his stony silence. Zim gave a frustrated sigh. “Still nothing? Okay.  _ I am sorry _ I tried to send you to the Moose Room. I am  _ not sorry  _ I tried to send everyone else there — even  _ you _ would agree with me that they all suck.” Zim waited for a smirk but was rewarded with nothing. “Okay, okay … Not in the mood. I get it. In that case,  _ I am sorry _ I used you to detonate my time dilation field.  _ I am sorry _ I put you in the time dilation field to begin with.”

“Is this  _ supposed _ to feel terrible?” Dib grumbled. 

“That’s probably the … the healing?” Zim offered up lamely. “I don’t know! Irkens don’t  _ do _ apologies, Dib-beast. I am  _ trying _ my best here and  _ I am sorry _ that my best is not up to your  _ ludicrously high apology standards. _ ” 

Dib rolled his eyes and his head in the complete opposite direction of Zim, arms still crossed. 

“Aren’t you  _ tired _ of this?” Zim asked Dib’s back, his tone pleading. Dib dropped his arms to his side and turned to face Zim.

“Yes. _Extremely. _I just don’t get _why_ _you care_ all of a sudden,” Dib said, finally holding his gaze.

“Because it  _ doesn’t have to be like this _ !”

“And why is that? Why  _ now _ ?”

Zim went quiet, making himself seem even smaller than usual. “I just … I want ... I realized that … it just doesn’t  _ have to _ , okay?”

Dib looked him over, trying to detect any signs of insincerity. “And the reason you brought me here today was …?”

“Because I  _ care _ , Dib. How many times do I need to tell you? Don’t ask me  _ why  _ I care; I’m still trying to sort it out for myself, okay? But today, walking in and seeing what you’d done to yourself, I just realized that if  _ anything _ happened to you …” he shook his head. “I want to work through this, Dib, right here and now … I’m so tired of hurting each other.”

Dib looked over to see Zim with his face in his hands. A bit of rusty red on Zim’s tunic suddenly caught his eye, and he realized Zim was still wearing the same blood-spattered clothes he’d had on earlier. Despite all his gripes about how disgusting Dib was, he hadn’t bothered to go change.

“Ditto,” said Dib, defeatedly, walking over beside the couch and sliding down the wall to the floor. 

A strained silence fell over them, the air still thick with unspoken grievances. Dib sat with his knees to his chest, head down. Zim looked over and registered that Dib was wearing a blue hoodie with matching sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy slippers. It was a hard left turn from the rather punk-rock Dib he knew. Well,  _ thought _ he knew. Zim realized he really didn’t know Dib very well at all.

Dib finally raised his head and caught Zim staring. “What?”

“Oh, erm … why are you on the floor?” Zim asked, feeling stupid.

Dib shrugged. “It’s not my couch? And you’re … I thought you were kinda angry at me ...”

Zim waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s just put the whole thing behind us for now, shall we? Not to mention that I invited you and I should at least try to be a semi decent host. Especially considering I’m doing this so you don’t off yourself. GIR!” he shouted suddenly, causing Dib to jump. “Bring me  _ the fluffy blankets _ !”

After a moment, Dib heard the kitchen base entrance clang, and in rushed GIR — clearly no worse for the wear after their screaming match — with a towering pile of blankets. He promptly dumped them on Dib with a raucous laugh before taking one and putting it on the floor so he could roll himself up like a burrito. 

Zim leaned down and grabbed a blanket to spread on the couch while GIR turned the TV to some innocuous channel with his foot and bounced up on the other side of the couch. Zim patted the spot next to him. “Come, Dib-thing; make yourself a nest.”

Dib stood up and draped one of the blankets over his shoulders. “While I’m inclined to believe you actually think humans make literal nests, you’re also not that far off.” He draped a second blanket over Zim’s shoulders before layering the others in his spot on the couch. “Depressed humans do like to nest in blankets.”

“Are you still depressed?”

Dib gave Zim an odd look as he climbed up onto the couch. “I mean, yeah? It’s less a constant emotion and more like constant background noise.”

“You at least look like the shower did you some good.”

“That would probably be because, um,” Dib stalled, running his hands through his hair and turning red. “It’s kind of the first shower I’ve had since Monday.”

That immediately struck Zim as disgusting, but he was pretty sure Dib was wildly aware of that fact. He felt a pang of pity in his chest. A sudden, high-pitched buzzing made him flinch, and he looked over to see Dib watching him out of the corner of his eyes, biting his lip in an effort to hold back his words.

“That  _ noise  _ again _ ,  _ human,” Zim warned. “Just say it.”

“I … well … look, you apologized,” he began, flustered. “So I figure maybe I should, too.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for how I treated you earlier. You might have legitimately saved me and I wasn’t very grateful about it.” 

Zim blinked in surprise. 

“I’m sorry I accused you of things. I’m sorry I insinuated that being into you would be the worst thing in the world,” he said softly, shooting Zim a look he couldn’t quite read. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you when you’re the only one trying to help me. I just …” he draped himself over the back of the couch dramatically and sighed. “Can we … can we  _ formally _ agree to stop trying to annihilate each other until I get my head straightened out? Just so I know where we stand? I’m just …  _ really confused _ about a lot of things right now and what I need is just … a  _ friend _ , I guess. Someone to talk to who gets it. You’re the closest thing I’ve got.”

Zim’s expression softened. “Okay,” he replied, quietly. “I would like that.”

“You do realize that in order for this to work, though, I have to trust you, right? You’ve got to throw me a bone here.” Dib gave him a pleading look. “So come on … really. Why the change of heart? Why do you suddenly give a shit?”

“I don’t  _ suddenly… _ ” Zim started. 

“Okay…” Dib replied, gesturing for him to get on with it. 

Zim wanted desperately to get everything off his chest. He was also aware that he had to tread lightly. “If I tell you,” he began, slowly, “It might change a lot of what you think about me.”

“Is that so bad?” Dib asked. His eyes were plaintive, searching. Zim wondered if he and Dib both ultimately wanted the same things. 

“I don’t know,” Zim admitted. “I don’t know if it will be the  _ good _ sort of different or the  _ bad _ sort of different. I just know that  _ once I say it _ … I can’t take it back if it makes things worse.”

“Whatever it is, I promise I won’t be upset,” Dib said, quietly. “I think I’ve used up all my upset for the night. I just want you to finally be open with me.”

“Alright,” Zim sighed. He picked at the hem of his tunic, trying to decide where to begin. “Do you remember that time a few years back, when I missed like a month of school?”

Dib thought for a moment. “The time you said you had malaria?”

“No, I think it was the time before that.”

“Swine flu?”

“No ….”

“Mono?”

“I think it was the year before that …”

“Lyme Disease?”

“Yes, that one.”

“You sure have missed a lot of school,” Dib remarked. “How the hell are you graduating?”

“I really have no fucking idea,” Zim admitted. “Anyway, when I was gone …” He looked at Dib, knowing there was no coming back from this. He’d just have to trust that Dib would keep a level head. “… it was because the Tallest decided to call an early Existence Evaluation for me.”

Dib’s eyes narrowed. “What, like they get to determine if you’re worthy to keep existing?”

“More like the Control Brains do, but yes, that is the gist of it.”

Dib spent a moment examining Zim’s expression, waiting for a “gotcha”. When none came, he shook his head incredulously. “That’s … kinda fucked up.”

Zim shrugged. “Irk is a well-oiled machine. If any part is broken, it deserves to be replaced. We’re computers riding around on meat suits and if one of those computers is defective, it gets deactivated. For the good of the society.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Dib said, rubbing his temples. “The Tallest or the Brains or whoever wanted to concoct a way to write you off as ‘defective’ to get rid of you just because they don’t like you? That seems a little extreme, even for Irk.”

“No, Dib,” Zim said, his voice rising a little. He gave Dib a look of such desperation and pain that it physically hurt for Dib to hold his gaze. “I need you to understand this … I  _ am  _ defective. I am  _ broken _ . I am …  _ insane. _ A legitimate danger. The Tallest tried to kill me but … my PAK can’t be deleted for some reason.  _ I am too broken to even die _ , Dib.”

Dib regarded the little alien in front of him, all big raspberry-red eyes and quivering antennae, twisting the hem of his blanket with barely contained anxiety. Dib had always assumed that everyone on Irk was as frenetic as Zim. He suddenly wondered how much of what made Zim seem alien was because he was Irken and how much was because he was  _ Zim _ .

“There’s more,” he said, looking down and sounding miserable. “You’re going to hate me and I’m so sorry …” He looked at Dib, then quickly away. “There’s been so much yelling tonight …” he said, softly.

Dib put a hand on his shoulder and Zim had never felt more small. “I promised I wouldn’t get upset with you.”

Zim put his hand on top of Dib’s and gave him a sad smile. He hoped Dib could keep that promise, but he wouldn’t blame him if that turned out not to be the case. He was quiet for a moment while he gathered his courage. 

“I wasn’t sent here for a real mission.” 

He felt his heart drop straight out of his chest finally saying it out loud, and in front of Dib, no less. Nothing but pure anxiety propelled him forward. 

“The Tallest … they lied to me. To banish me. I don’t even think I was supposed to end up on Earth. I think I was supposed to get lost and die in deep space. But I ended up here and I did  _ everything _ I could to get the Tallest to notice me, acknowledge me, respect me …  _ Well _ past the point when any normal person would have realized it was  _ hopeless _ …” He trailed off and turned to Dib, who was massaging the bridge of his nose and taking deliberately even breaths.

“How long did you know?” Dib’s voice was quiet, his expression unreadable.

“Dib, I am so sorry …” Zim’s words caught in his throat.

“Just … how long have you known about this?”

“Maybe … some  _ very _ small part of me … from the start of it? I don’t know!” Zim threw his head back, looking at the tangled mess of wires that made up his ceiling. “I didn’t  _ want _ to think it could be true. After they tried to deactivate me, I knew for sure and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. But,” he balled his hands into fists. “I still just thought that if I  _ kept trying _ … that if I could find the most perfect, clever,  _ ingenious  _ way of taking over Earth, they would respect me. That it wouldn’t  _ matter _ if I was defective or not. I wanted to prove myself so badly. I wanted everyone to respect me  _ so badly. _ ” Zim’s voice broke, and he took a few shaky, calming breaths. “You were such a good distraction from everything, I didn’t want our rivalry to stop. So that part is true … I enjoyed fighting you. It kept me busy building things and making plans. It kept me from just … self-immolating. But lately, I’m just  _ tired _ of hurting you. I don’t know why I’m having a change of heart  _ now _ … I just know that I want …” He trailed off and gave a miserable whine. “I don’t  _ know _ , Dib. I just feel so strangely these days. About you. And everything. I don’t have the right words for it yet.”

Zim cast a glance at Dib, who had pressed his face into his hands. He sat so still, Zim could scarcely see him breathing.

“I’m sorry, Dib,” he whispered. “I … I wish I could give you those years back. I’m  _ so sorry _ I hurt you over nothing.” 

He went to reach for Dib’s sleeve, then faltered, hands shaking. All he wanted was to reach out and hold Dib close, and he didn’t understand a bit of it ... because he  _ shouldn’t _ have been feeling the things he now knew with  _ absolute certainty _ he was feeling. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, hand falling to his side.

“It’s a lot, Zim,” Dib said, muffled from behind his cupped hands. “Just … give me a moment. I don’t … I don’t really know what to do with all this quite yet.” 

“I should have put a stop to the fighting as soon as I knew,” Zim whispered, because he had to say  _ something _ . Maybe if he said  _ enough _ , the right thing would tumble out of his mouth, make Dib not hate him. Maybe, if he said enough … he would somehow find the words to fix everything.

Dib finally looked over, a pained expression on his face. “I’m not  _ mad _ , I’m just … we spent  _ so long _ at each other’s throats …”

“... For nothing. I know. Believe me, I know …” Zim tentatively reached out again, before balling up his hand into a fist and looking away, ashamed. “I’m sorry. None of this is an excuse but I hope some of it is a good explanation. Though I can’t reasonably expect you to understand the feelings and motivations of someone as …  _ broken  _ as I am.”

Even if Zim had completely blown it, Dib deserved to know the truth. Zim couldn’t give him back all the years they spent hurting each other, but he could give Dib a future where he could be free to focus on other things. Even if those things weren’t Zim.

He was shocked to feel Dib reach over and pull him into a tight hug. 

“No, I understand,” Dib whispered, softly. If he hadn’t said it mere inches from Zim’s antenna, he might not have heard it at all. “I understand why you did it. We have a lot in common … I’m … I guess I’m kind of defective, too.” Dib pulled Zim into his lap, wrapping the blanket around them both and holding Zim close.

Zim just let himself be moved and held, too shocked and tired to resist. He wasn’t even sure that, given his full faculties, he would have put up a fight. The pressure felt at once strange and welcome, like it was something he had been missing his entire life without fully being aware of it. Dib held him like he was the only solid object in a raging storm while Zim pressed close and listened to Dib’s frantic heartbeat. For a moment, they sat in deafening silence; two broken people trying to hold each other together.

“My dad,” Dib started, a bit too loudly. He cleared his throat. “I wanted more than anything to prove to him that I could be a real paranormal investigator.” He laughed sadly, and Zim felt a tear drop onto his head as Dib squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s why I cut myself up today, you know. We got into a fight this morning …  _ again  _ … because I wanted to go to a college where I could study those things, and he didn’t like it. Said I could do something he approved of or I could forget about him helping me pay for school. And not too long ago, I would have done  _ anything _ for his approval … I would have  _ killed you _ , Zim,” he said, desperation trailing off his words. “I would have  _ killed you _ , just to get everyone to admit they were wrong about me. And that’s … that’s  _ scary _ . It freaks me out to think about it.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “When I went to the psych ward …” he stopped himself and his tone darkened. “No … that time  _ my dad let me get taken _ to the psych ward? They tried to put me on all sorts of medication that just ended up making me sick. Everyone called me insane but on Earth they don’t kill you for that. They won’t even  _ let you  _ kill yourself. You get out when you pretend to be normal. When they think they’ve fixed whatever short circuited in your brain.”

Zim recalled Dib’s return, how he was a husk of his usual self, so quiet and small. It was like they had beaten all of the fight out of him. For a while, Zim had been convinced that the old Dib wasn’t coming back ever again.

“I tried so hard, Zim!” Dib said desperately, voice keening as he squeezed Zim tight, and all Zim could do was squeeze back as he felt his heart ache more than he ever knew it could. He wanted to take Dib and fly him away from  _ stupid _ earth and his  _ stupid _ family and all the  _ stupid  _ people at  _ stupid _ school and then they could go explore the universe until … !! 

“I tried  _ so hard  _ to be normal. And when that didn’t work, to at least  _ impress _ people. And when that didn’t work, either, to sit quietly out of the way. And none of it did  _ anything _ to make me less of a social pariah and a loser!”

Zim turned and let Dib bury his face in his shoulder, holding him gently as he started to break down again. 

“Nobody likes me, Zim,” he bawled. “I  _ know _ that. I know it …  _ Nobody _ . Not even my own  _ family _ . All the kids at school tormented me until you showed up. And when you were gone, they never missed an opportunity to shove me in a locker … or  _ worse _ . Even on the days I don’t actively want to kill myself, I still just want to _ become dead _ , somehow …”

“Dib,” Zim said, gently, pulling back so he could remove Dib’s glasses and wipe his tears away, his desire to provide comfort finally overriding his visceral reaction to human sadness fluids. He was quiet for a moment, wondering if it was okay to finally say the things he knew.

He put a hand on Dib’s cheek and Dib finally met his searching gaze. Zim felt like he was stepping over the edge of a cliff. 

“ _ I _ like you,” he whispered, stroking Dib’s cheek a little awkwardly before pulling him close again. “I’m sorry I said you were just here for my amusement. That was … not very nice of me. I  _ like you _ and I  _ care _ about what happens to you … I don’t really understand it, yet. All these emotions are … strange. But I just need you to know right now that I  _ do _ , very much,  _ like you _ . Maybe too much,” he sighed, giving in to his impulses and pressing his face against Dib’s cheek. It felt so warm and soft and _right._ “And I certainly don’t want you dead. I thought if I didn’t bring you back here with me … I might never see you again.” Through his emotional haze, he noted that Dib smelled rather nice right now. A little salty, but his hair smelled like vanilla and flowers.

Dib pulled back out of Zim’s embrace, wiping his face on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Zim said again, looking down as his antennae drooped. Why couldn’t he get anything right when it came to Dib? “Maybe I should have just kept that to myself.” 

He looked up, and suddenly Dib was pulling him close and pressing his lips against Zim’s and forcing them open with his tongue. Zim’s eyes widened, but he leaned into the kiss, letting Dib put his hands on his waist and pull him close until their bodies pressed together. Dib’s movements were shaky and desperate, but Zim let himself be gently lead through the motions. He pulled his gloves off behind Dib’s back before sliding his hands up Dib’s neck and working his bare fingers through his hair. It was still slightly damp from the earlier shower and smelled overpoweringly sweet when he was up this close.

“So, when you said you didn’t like me, earlier…” Zim mumbled, breathless.

“I guess I lied, too,” Dib leaned back just enough to whisper. “Sorry about earlier… I thought you were just … look, it’s been a  _ weird  _ day …”

Zim pulled back suddenly, then slumped and rested his head against Dib’s chest.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” Dib asked, worried.

Zim sat up and gave him a searching look. “I just … It  _ has _ been a weird day. And I … want to make sure you  _ really _ want this. Because we could try out being friends for real, first, and if that works—”

“I like you  _ now _ , Zim,” Dib said, desperately. “And you like me. Even though we couldn’t go a month without kicking each other’s asses, I’ve liked you for over a year now …”

“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? I don’t …” He put a hand on Dib’s cheek. “That’s where we keep ending back up; fighting. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dib took his hand and kissed it. “So don’t.”

Zim sighed and closed his eyes. 

“Everything you’ve done today proved to me that you care about me,” Dib said, his eyes sparkling with intensity. “I mean, fuck … you’ve still got my blood all over you.”

Zim looked down. “Oh. Ew.” He pulled a face, then smiled slightly. 

Dib put his arms around Zim’s waist. “Look, Zim … I spent all of today wondering if you were into me or trying to humiliate me. And I’m just … over the moon that it’s the former.” He pulled Zim close again, resting their cheeks together. “You can’t tell me this doesn’t feel amazing.”

Zim whined. “I’m not saying it  _ doesn’t _ … it feels like  _ a lot of things  _ … I’ve just never felt this way about someone. Anyone. Anywhere. And I don’t know the first thing about human courtship …”

“Hey, you at least finally figured out it doesn’t involve beans,” Dib chuckled.

“True, true, “ Zim said with a slight smile. He hugged Dib tightly, almost two centuries of never having made physical contact with another creature beginning to catch up with him. “It’s just that … You deserve someone who will do it right and … I don’t know how to do it right.”

“I don’t know how to do it right, either. We’ll just have to figure it out together.”

Zim was quiet again.

“Forget all the complexities for a moment. What do  _ you _ want?”

Zim snuggled close, resting his head against Dib’s chest and listening to his heartbeat. A million emotions swelled inside him, and he couldn’t name a single one. “I want to be the one who makes you happy …”

“You are right now.”

“But five minutes ago I was making you angry!”

“That’s … just going to happen,” Dib said with a shrug. “It’s part of caring about someone.” 

“So we were just fighting because we cared too much?” Zim sulked from under Dib’s chin. 

“Weren’t we, though?” asked Dib, his tone sincere. “I mean, that was what was going on, right? You were mad because you couldn’t sort out your emotions towards me and I was mad because I couldn’t deal with wanting to fuck an alien?”

Zim sat up and gave him a disgruntled look. “Oh, well, if  _ that’s  _ all it is … ”

Dib laughed and pulled him close. “I’m joking. Mostly.” He gave Zim a wink and Zim stuck out his tongue. “My point is … we fought. It didn’t turn physical. No one got hurt. Nothing got broken. We talked things out. I think we’re doing pretty well.”

Zim gave another nervous sigh. “Alright. That’s fair. But …” he shook his head in confusion. “The way I like you … Dib, it _scares_ me, to be honest. I want you to be happy but … _I _want to be the one to make you happy and protect you and take care of you. And … I feel like _I_ _need_ _you_ …”

Dib kissed the worry lines on his forehead. “Good, because I feel like I need you, too. You’re going to be the best possessive boyfriend a guy could ask for.”

A gentle silence fell between them. Zim relaxed in Dib’s arms, letting his guard down completely for the first time in … well, forever, he supposed. He turned to look upwards at Dib. “It’s agreed, then? We’re going to try and make this work?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dib replied, snuggling him close. “It’s going to be interesting getting used to you protecting me.”

“I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you funny, you know,” Zim said with a smirk.

“You’re probably going to have to kill most of the kids at school then,” Dib laughed.

“Eh, fuck ‘em,” Zim whispered under his breath, just before Dib put a hand behind his head and pulled him into another desperate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who ever watched those Rainbow Dash Presents animations on YouTube knows I pilfered a couple choice lines from "Bittersweet".
> 
> This is probably draft 9 or 10 or this chapter. Dib was not originally the pushy one, but I think it works best this way. Zim is emotionally compromised and he knows it; he's also wildly aware that he keeps hurting Dib. Dib is less scared of getting hurt than he is desperate to be loved.


	7. Can Good Things Happen After 2AM?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have "2AM" by Bear Hands stuck in my head, but good things do happen after 2am in this fic, so it's not the song at the top of this chapter. Instead it's something sappy by Waterparks.  
*********************************************  
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* * *

_I’ll be the silver lining around your fence_  
_ You use to protect yourself from all the world_  
_ And its sharp teeth_  
_ Because I am all for you_

[\- Waterparks, _Silver _](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syNR5WN2hhA)

* * *

Zim’s mind slowly drifted back into wakefulness. He was curled up on top of Dib, his head snuggled up in the crook of Dib’s neck. The living room was dark and quiet, so what had woken him up?

Beneath him, Dib shifted and gave a pained whine. Zim immediately sat up.

“Are you alright?”

Dib looked half asleep as he sat up and leaned his back against the arm of the couch, sliding Zim down into his lap.

“My arm is killing me … I think I pulled a stitch or something,” he mumbled.

“Let me see …” Zim gently pushed Dib’s sleeve up and inspected the bandage. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re bleeding, but I’m not surprised you hurt. This is about when I’d expect the numbness to wear off. Do you want something for the pain?”

“I don’t think aspirin is going to cut it,” Dib said pitifully.

“Pssh, aspirin,” Zim said with a wave of his hand. “Don’t underestimate me, Dib.” He hopped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.

“What sort of things do you drink?” Zim yelled from the other room.

“Oh … um … just water is fine,” Dib replied. The weirdness of the whole situation was finally beginning to hit him. He was sitting on Zim’s couch in Zim’s base, _ not _trying to bug the place or stop some crazy world domination scheme, because he was now the boyfriend of the megalomaniac alien who had been trying to conquer earth for the better part of a decade. And said megalomaniac alien was in the kitchen getting him a glass of water and pain medication that was probably illegal in most countries.

Dib attempted to mentally backtrack how, exactly, he had ended up here.

Zim returned with a glass of water and a small, square pill and handed both to Dib.

Dib examined the pill. “Is this a narcotic?”

Zim shrugged. “They’re just what I’ve got in my first aid kit so whatever class of drug it is, you’ll probably be fine.”

“Probably,” said Dib with a raised eyebrow.

“I haven’t killed you yet, have I?”

“You’re definitely batting a thousand in that category,” Dib said, dropping the pill in his mouth and chugging the entire glass of water. He set it down on the floor and Zim hopped back into his lap. Dib gave him a surprised look as he snuggled in close. Feeling Dib freeze, Zim opened one eye and perked an antenna.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” Dib stuttered. “I’m just … getting used to this, is all.” He hugged Zim tightly and exhaled and happy sigh into his shoulder.

“Feels good, right?”

Dib slid his hands down to Zim's hips. “So good. I might just have to stay like this.” 

“... It's all still a bit weird, though, isn't it?” Zim asked from where he was snuggled against Dib’s shoulder. "It feels easy to slip into being like this, but it's ... still new."

Everything was starting to feel a bit weird to Dib ... weird and soft and almost giddy. He assumed that whatever was in that pill had finally started to kick in as the pain in his arm started to melt away. He enjoyed the sudden warmth flooding through him and the way it made the weight of Zim's body feel against his own.

“I keep waiting to wake up in my bed,” Dib admitted, lazily rubbing Zim's shoulder. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Zim. I don’t really know exactly how or when I started feeling this way about you but …”

“Chemistry class last year, probably.”

Dib laughed. “Do you remember how we both went up to Mr. Gilbert and demanded he give us different partners? I was so mad because I knew he did it on purpose. He was trying to force us to get along. And the insane part is that _ it worked _.”

“I think bonding over our mutual hatred of gym class in the greenhouse is what really did it,” Zim said with a smile.

“Yeah … I feel like I just woke up one day and realized that seeing you made everything less shitty. And I couldn’t even make sense of it because I’ve literally never felt that way about another human. I had kind of an existential crisis over it.”

“Meh, humans suck. No wonder you don’t like them.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m one of those sucky humans.”

Zim kissed his neck. “Nah, you’re one of the good ones. Even if you are kind of smelly.”

Dib cast Zim a quizzical look. “I can’t tell what sort of compliment that was.”

“The kind where I tell you that you belong to Zim now, so you will be taking better care of yourself.” Zim leaned in close.

“Oh, I’m yours now?” Dib said, gaze falling to Zim’s mouth before he closed his eyes.

“Mhmm. You’re Zim’s human,” he said against Dib’s lips. “And I’m going to take good care of you.”

They kissed gently and at a much slower pace than earlier. Dib ran a hand up Zim’s back and neck and finally up to gently stroke an antenna. Zim pressed closer in response, and from his throat bubbled a noise that Dib could only describe as a rather contented purr.

He pulled back and his suddenly laugh made Zim jump. He looked up at Dib with confusion and Dib could only smile back.

“I … sorry … _ do Irkens purr??? _”

Zim shrugged and blushed. “I ... guess so? I’ve just never been happy enough to do it before ...”

“Well, that’s probably the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Dib said softly, resuming the antenna-stroking. Zim leaned in, nuzzling his head against Dib’s neck blissfully. Dib leaned down for another kiss and Zim happily kissed back, their tongues dancing against each other. Dib pulled his legs to his chest, sandwiching Zim against him. The litany of sensations made time move strangely.

Dib’s stomach growled and Zim sat up suddenly, slapping his head. “Oh fuck! I forgot to feed you! Argh! I’m already so bad at taking care of you … ”

Dib blushed. “Sorry … ”

Zim head-butted Dib’s hand. “You realize that I need to eat, too, right? I just never eat at school because the cafeteria food is just not fit for consumption by anyone. But I’m _ supposed _ to be taking care of you … ”

Dib laughed and kissed the top of his head. “It’s alright. You’re not any worse at taking care of me than I am. Is anything even open this late?”

“Denny’s,” Zim said with all the certainty of someone familiar with late-night snacking urges.

GIR, who had been sleeping peacefully on the other side of the couch, suddenly shot up. 

“Denny’s‽ We goin’ to Denny’s???” he shrieked with a massive smile.

“Well, looks like we don’t have a choice now,” Zim sighed. 

Dib gave him a quizzical look. 

“There’s no arguing with him unless you want to hear him scream himself back to sleep,” Zim explained. 

Dib held up his hands. “I’d _really_ rather not. Denny’s is fine.”

“Wheee! Waffles!” GIR yelled, running laps around the room.

Zim pulled out his disguise, popping the contact lenses back on while Dib leaned down to rifle in his bag and pull out a red and purple knit hat. He handed it to Zim. “Here, try this. That wig always looks so itchy.”

Zim gave Dib a quizzical look but took it and pulled it onto his head. “Hum … There _ is _a lot more room under here … and it’s soft … how do I look?”

Dib grinned. “Like an alien wearing a beanie.”

Zim sniffed dismissively and began fishing around for his missing gloves. “You clearly have astute observational skills not common in the rest of your species.”

“You know, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re right,” Dib admitted. He looked around for wherever he’d tossed his shoes. “Are we walking there?”

“Yayyy walk!!!” GIR shrieked, bouncing around the room, the hood of his dog suit flapping behind him.

Zim turned to Dib, deadpan. “Yes. Yes, it would appear we are.”

“Are you gonna be warm enough in that, then?” Dib asked. “You always show up to school in a parka in like October.”

“It’s not quite cold enough for the parka,” Zim said with a wave of his hand. 

“You also _ sort of _ look like you just murdered someone,” Dib said, looking at the blood spatters on the front of Zim’s tunic. He turned and dug around in his bag and then draped his spare hoodie over Zim’s head. “Try this.”

“That is going to be _ huge _ on me …”

“That’s the point!” Dib replied with a grin.

Zim pulled it on over his existing clothes, pushing up the sleeves so his hands were visible. The hem hung just below his knees. He turned to Dib, who was practically glowing.

“That’s adorable,” he said with a massive grin. “You’re getting dressed in my clothes more often.”

“It _ is _ rather comfy,” Zim admitted. “And purple. I can appreciate the purple.”

Dib grinned. “I knew it!”

“What?” Zim asked.

“That’s your favorite color, isn’t it?”

“Yes …” he said slowly.

Dib shrugged. “I figured. Because of the contacts. It’s a weird color for eyes so I kinda assumed … It’s totally not why I brought purple clothes … if you were thinking that ...” 

"Oh, but _I _was the one with ulterior motives," Zim joked.

Dib shrugged. "Can you blame me for wanting to stay on your good side?"

“If you want a cookie for you astute observational skills, I’ll give it to you this time,” Zim said with a smirk. He turned and dug around under the couch cushion and pulled out a red vest. “Come here, GIR. What do you need to do when we go out to eat?”

GIR took a flying leap onto the couch. “Put on mah vest cuz Imma service dog!”

“And what do good service dogs say?”

GIR was quiet but did a little dance like he was wagging his tail.

“Very good, GIR!” The little robot held his arms out so Zim could secure the vest on him. Zim looked over to see Dib covering his mouth to keep from laughing.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “I think that cured my depression.”

Zim gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, if I knew it was going to be _ that _easy …” He gave Dib a little smile then grabbed GIR’s leash from the floor and clipped it to his collar while Dib pulled on his Converse. They walked out of the house and before Zim shut the door, he turned around and shouted back inside.

_ “Computer!!” _

The sound of snoring emanated from somewhere inside the house. Zim rolled his eyes. 

“Put yourself into Guard Mode while we’re away.”

“Five more minutes …” the machine mumbled.

Zim shot the house a nasty look and then closed the door. “I _ really _ need to just buy a proper lock,” he grumbled as they started off down the street. “Do you know how long it took me to realize that everything the Tallest gave me was shitty and broken _ on purpose _ ?” he fumed. “The house’s computer sasses me. They don’t even _ make _Voot Cruisers anymore. And then there’s --” He looked down at GIR, who was happily toddling along at the end of his leash. Zim sighed. “Well, let’s just say that some things have grown on me more than others.”

“Wait, _ everything _ they gave you was broken?”

Zim looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, I think all of it was either old or sabotaged or stolen from the reject bin. I don’t think there’s a single working thing in there that I didn’t make myself.” He suddenly noticed Dib’s surprised expression. “What?”

Dib blinked and held his hands up. “Nothing … I guess I’m just impressed.”

“Impressed why?”

“That you did so much with such shitty equipment. I mean, I know what you did was mostly try to conquer earth, but you still have my respect. You know, as the son of a Real Scientist and all.”

“I fixed what I could and built what I didn’t have,” Zim replied with a shrug.

Dib laughed. “Dude, that’s even better. Honestly, I’d go into a ‘_ respectable science’, _” he mimicked his father and used heavy air quotes, “if it meant learning from you. I think your planet made a mistake letting you leave R&D.”

Zim cast him an odd look. “If I’m being perfectly honest, the move was highly suggested due to my propensity to … blow things up.”

“Isn’t that what they wanted from you?”

“I think they were hoping I’d do the blowing up a little further from Irk,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” Dib said softly. 

Zim shook his head sadly. “I don’t know if it was a property of Irk, itself, but something about being there just made me … _ out of my mind _. The more time I spend away from it, the clearer my head feels and the less I find myself fucking up horribly. On Irk, I couldn’t even breathe without blowing the power for half the planet. Did I ever tell you I was banished? Before this, I mean.”

“They banished you twice??” said Dib, incredulous. 

Zim nodded. “After I stole a battle mech and wrecked half of Irk, the Tallest decided they were done with me and had me re-encoded as a food service drone and sent to Foodcourtia. Looking back, I’m shocked they didn’t do it sooner. Not even just because of all the things I blew up, but because … well, you’ve noticed I’m not very tall, right?”

Dib smiled down at Zim, putting a hand on his head. “For what it’s worth, on earth it just makes you sickeningly cute.”

“Yes, well, glad it came in handy eventually,” Zim said with a blush. “On Irk, though, it puts me on the lower tiers of society. No matter how hard I work or how well I do, I will always be hobbled by my height. There are just certain levels I’ll likely never attain.” He looked away for a moment, bitter. In front of him, GIR tripped over a crack in the pavement and toppled over. Zim broke from his brooding and sprung over to pick him up and set him back on his feet.

“Careful, GIR.”

“Don’t step onna crack or you’ll break yer momma’s back!” he giggled. He bounced to Zim’s side. “Did I break yer back??”

Zim patted him on the head. “Not quite.” He spotted another gap in the pavement and lifted GIR over it. Once his little legs hit the ground again, he bounded back to the end of his leash.

“So, how do you feel about kids, momma?” Dib asked playfully.

Zim stuck out his tongue. “No smeets for me — I think my hands are more than full.”

For once, Dib let the silence drape over them and didn’t attempt to break it. He reached down for Zim’s hand and interlaced their fingers, giving a gentle squeeze that Zim returned. Every time they touched, now, Dib’s heart swelled with a million emotions. Happiness and comfort and overwhelming _ want _and lingering fears and a desire to just wrap Zim up and protect him from the world. Being in love ached in a way that felt so satisfying. Walking along at 2am with Zim and his strange little robot minion/dog/son, Dib felt like he actually had a family that wanted him around. Sure, Zim was a wildcard and GIR still thought Dib’s name was Mary, but at least here he was a black sheep amongst black sheep. 

He finally gave Zim a gentle nudge with his hips. “Do you want to finish your story?”

Zim shook the faraway look from his eyes. “Sure … where was I?”

“The Tallest banished you to Foodcourtia?”

“Ah, yes,” Zim said. “And then I un-banished myself.”

Dib burst out laughing. “You did _ what _??”

“I heard that Operation Impending Doom II was starting, and despite the fact that I had no reason to be picked, I was convinced that the Tallest had just … _ forgotten _ to invite me to the Great Assigning.”

Dib cocked his head. “Not everyone gets an assignment?”

Zim shook his head. “They pick only the most elite Invaders to go ahead to a select few planets. I just sort of … barged my way on stage and demanded a planet. Somehow I never noticed that I was never _ actually _ re-encoded as an Invader. Everything just happened so fast. I believed the Tallest when they told me that all the broken equipment was a cover … The longer I’m here and the more I go over those memories, the more stupid I feel,” Zim admitted. He gazed up at the stars and sighed. “Part and parcel of being broken, I suppose.”

“Fuck the Tallest and fuck Irk,” Dib said angrily. “You’re smart, Zim. I’ve watched you build and improvise a million different things over the years. I’ve honestly been a bit jealous. I wish I had half the skill you do with engineering.”

Zim beamed up at him, then chuckled. “You say that, until I accidentally create a monster that ends up eating not one, but two world leaders.”

Dib stared at him, trying and failing to sort out whether he was joking or not. “You’re messing with me.”

Zim gave Dib an utterly serious look. “I’ve technically assassinated two world leaders and committed war crimes and acts of terrorism on my own planet.”

“Really?” 

“_ Really _ really.”

Dib chewed the inside of his cheek. “I feel like I’m being warned off, here.”

Zim shrugged. “It wasn’t on purpose. There just seems to be … an awful lot of collateral damage around me. I don’t feel like I have a lot of control over it.” He looked up at Dib, then held their enmeshed hands to his face. “Look, I can't promise that weird shit won’t happen when you’re around me … Actually, I can _ absolutely _ promise that weird shit _ will _ happen when you’re around me. And I’ll do my best to protect you, but you _ are _ squishy and human.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Dib said with a shrug. “And I’m not that squishy.”

“Dennyyyyyy’s!” GIR suddenly squealed, pulling on his leash. The bright sign glowed from about a block away and GIR was determined to make a beeline for it.

Dib held on to Zim’s hand to prevent him from eating pavement. “_ GIR _! What kind of dog are you right now?” Zim chided once he had his feet properly under him.

“Uhhhmmmm … Service dog!”

“And what are you supposed to be doing?”

“Radiating calm and providing comfort!” GIR said in his duty-mode voice.

“Very good. And how does a service dog walk to Denny’s?”

GIR moved to walk by Zim’s side, tiny legs attempting to match Zim’s marching stride.

“Perfect. If you can continue to be this good, you will get all the waffles you want, okay?”

They made their way over to the restaurant and Dib was amused to find that Zim asked for a table for three. No one seemed to think it odd that the dog required his own seat. Or perhaps service dogs were granted strange privileges like that. Dib certainly didn’t know. They were led to a both and once Dib slid in, Zim and GIR slid in beside him.

“Aren’t couples supposed to, like, sit across from each other?” Dib asked with a grin.

“Why? So I can stare at your face the whole time?” Zim asked with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like an awful lot of eye contact while chewing.”

Dib laughed. “Glad we’re on the same page. Besides, now I can do this.” He leaned all the way over on top of Zim, and sandwiched him in a tight hug.

“You’re squishing me! Stop that!” Zim yelled, struggling.

A few late-night patrons looked their way. Usually, attracting an audience made Dib want to crawl into a hole and die. But tonight, he could enjoy giving Zim a good-natured ribbing. Besides, he had a feeling that part and parcel to dating Zim was getting used to all the yelling and attention that usually came with it. 

“Aw, I know you could throw me across the room if you wanted, but you like me so you won’t,” Dib taunted sweetly. 

“Don’t test me!”

“Hi … um … can I get you guys something to drink?”

They turned around to see a small, nervous server staring at them. Zim pushed Dib off of him and straightened his beanie. He started rattling things off before Dib could even think.

“Three milkshakes; one strawberry, one peanut butter banana, and … Dib, what do you want?”

Dib stared blankly at him. 

“You need calories, Dib. You’re too skinny so you’re getting a milkshake. Do you like Horchata?”

“I do …” He gave Zim a quizzical look. "Why do you know that?"

“I have studied the ways of your people, Dib,” Zim said simply, before turning back to the bewildered server. “Make that third one Horchata, then.”

The server scurried away.

“_ She _ didn’t think I looked like an alien in a beanie, Dib,” Zim said with a grin.

“The way she was looking at us? I’m pretty sure she thought we were _ all _ aliens.” Dib suddenly gave Zim a look. “I’m paying for all of this, aren’t I?”

“I’d be a bad boyfriend if I did that to you, Dib. I have cash monies,” Zim replied simply.

“What? How? You don’t have a job.”

“I don’t _ need _ a job in order to get earth monies,” Zim said with a conspiratorial smile.

Dib held up his hands. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. When the cops come and raid your house, then I can honestly tell them I have _ no idea _what you get up to.”

“At least bask in the ill-gotten fruits of my labor, Dib,” Zim said with a toothy grin. “You can order as many pancakes as you like.”

Dib stuck out his tongue. “3am is _ much _ too early for all that sugar, thanks. Just get me one of those breakfast grilled cheeses with hashbrowns.”

“Alright, fine. More pancakes and french toast for me.”

GIR stood up to whisper to Zim, “I want _ twelve _ waffles!”

“Twelve whole waffles! Hmm,” he tapped his chin. “Have you been good enough to earn all those waffles? What do you think, Dib?”

GIR wagged his tail.

“Aw, he’s doing his job so well! He deserves it,” Dib said, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, well, get ready for when we go home and the vest comes off and the sugar kicks in.”

The restaurant was busy for the middle of the night, and the cafe ambiance buzzed around them. Dib, having only slept a couple hours, was finding himself rapidly waning. He scooted down in his seat and gently rested his head on Zim’s shoulder with a yawn. Zim played with his hair and prattled on about something Dib couldn’t quite follow but he nodded along. He let Zim handle the server while he briefly dozed off. 

Zim poked him awake when his food came.

“No sleeping until you eat that,” Zim said, tucking into his french toast. “I know you didn’t eat at lunch today.”

“Was all your recon about how bad I am at self care?” Dib asked. 

“Well it is _ now _,” Zim said, kissing his cheek and leaving a dusting of powdered sugar.

Dib ate diligently so that Zim would stop fretting over him like a worried mother, but all the carbs and calories just served to put him into a food coma. He was leaning with his eyes closed over the table when he sensed Zim reaching over his plate. He looked down to see syrup drizzled all over what was left of his sandwich. 

Wait, wasn’t there more of a sandwich there just a second ago?

“You looked like you were full, so I’m helping,” said Zim, mouth full and his face covered in syrup and powdered sugar. “Eat the rest of that. It’s delicious.”

“If I have any more sugar before the sun comes up, I’m legit going to hurl,” Dib whined.

Zim shrugged and shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.

“I don’t understand at all how you can eat like that,” Dib said, shaking his head.

“And I don’t understand why you earth people insist on under-seasoning most of your food so badly.”

Dib just stared at him for a moment, a slight smile tagging at his lips.

“Is there something on my face?” Zim asked.

“I mean, yeah, you’re covered in powdered sugar. But I was just … enjoying this moment.”

Zim started trying to wipe off all the wrong parts of his face when Dib stopped him, took the napkin from him, and started cleaning him up. Zim rolled his eyes but his slight blush indicated he was secretly enjoying being doted on.

“You’ve probably guessed at this point that my family kinda sucks …” 

Zim put a hand on his shoulder. “Dib, I regret to inform you that your father is terrible.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dib admitted. “And Gaz is … well, dad likes her better and it’s influenced how she treats me. I don’t really blame her; it’s not her fault. It’s just that, we don’t have many family moments, and when we try to, it’s really just an excuse for Gaz and dad to bond at my expense.” He sighed and looked away for a moment, trying to get a handle on his emotions before they bubbled up and choked him.

“But tonight, when you’re making sure I’m actually eating and you’re treating GIR so nicely … it’s different. It’s what I feel like a family should be doing. I just …” he looked over at Zim, eyes full of sadness but also hope and yearning. Zim reached over to brush away a tear before it rolled down Dib’s cheek. “I could get used to this, you know?”

Zim smiled. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this basically being "Zim Eats Waffles: Fanfiction Edition"


	8. Wide Open Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one. Everything has been in editing hell for longer than I wanted it to be.
> 
> I also let my inner card-carrying physicist out a bit for this one so ... apologies in advance.  
*********************************************  
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* * *

Nice to know my kind will be on my side  
I don't believe the hype  
And you know you're a terrible sight  
_ But you'll be just fine  
_Just don't believe the hype

[ \- Twenty One Pilots, _ The Hype _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Io2hbcrAYBw)

* * *

“We’re close to the edge of town,” Zim said as they walked out the door and onto the quiet streets. “Want to head up the hill a stargaze a bit before the sun comes up?”

“Zim, I am so outrageously tired right now,” Dib whined, trudging along behind him. 

“Come on … It’ll give GIR a chance to burn off some energy before we go home,” Zim pressed. Dib grumbled something he couldn’t quite make out. “There have to be some things I know about astronomy that won’t put you to sleep.”

Dib sighed. “Alright. Just as long as you promise to carry me home when I _ do _, inevitably, pass out from exhaustion.”

Zim stopped and looked up at him as Dib finally caught up. 

“What’s that look for?” Dib asked. 

“Did you just call my base ‘home’?”

Dib blushed. “Huh, sorry. I guess I did.”

Zim reached for his hand and continued down the street. “Don’t be sorry.”

The night air had a bit of a chill, but crickets sang from the corner of every block and the katydids gave their stuccato call in the distance. A few lonely cicadas droned from the tree tops. The moon was almost a full silver disc and the dry air made for excellent sky-viewing.

As they approached the edge of town, Zim reached down to unclip GIR’s leash and take off his vest. “Ew, GIR … you’re really sticky,” Zim complained, wiping a hand on his pants. “When we get home, I’ll trade you some cookies for your dog suit.”

“You got more Girlie Ranger Cookies?” GIR asked.

“A whole box and it’s all yours if you’ll let me do the laundry. Do we have a deal?”

“We got a deal!” He clapped his hands together and spun in a circle.

“Sounds good,” he said, patting GIR’s head lightly. “Alright. Don’t run too far ahead and come right back if you see anyone else out there, got it?”

GIR was already halfway down the block before he yelled back a shrill, “Ooookies!!!”

Zim just shook his head and put an arm around Dib’s waist as they started up the hill.

“Man, I’m honestly just impressed he stayed calm and quiet long enough for us to eat out,” Dib said, watching GIR spin in circles up the hill. 

“He’s actually pretty good about things if you give him a job with a few — and I do mean _ few _ — clearly defined tasks and a concrete reward,” Zim replied. “As long as you stay on top of him about it, that is. SIR units are just information-gathering drones that help their masters blend in better with the planet. And GIR _ can _do that. He picks up on little details quickly and he’s uncommonly good at blending in, himself … everyone loves him for some reason. It’s crazy how he can have all the attention in the world focused on him and never be close to being found out.

“The problem is that he has the attention span of a pencil and he doesn’t know how to utilize the information he gathers to do anything the Irken Empire would consider ‘productive’. Oh, and he screams any time things don’t go his way or you disrupt his schedule or try to wash anything he owns.” Zim sighed and cast Dib a long-suffering glance.

“And yet, I’ve never tried to deactivate him. Improve him? Sure. But actually getting rid of him? I could never. I’ve always felt … varying types of affection towards him. Don’t get me wrong. He’s a terrible minion. But … he’s kept me from sinking into a terrible place these past few years.”

“Aw, you love him,” Dib said, intending to make Zim flustered. As soon as it was out of his mouth, however, he realized it was entirely true. 

Zim sighed. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I do.”

Dib smiled down at him. “You’re a good dog-mom.”

Zim gave him a playful hip bump.

“If you take half as good of care of me as you do GIR, I’ll consider myself to be in good hands.”

“You’re lucky I’ve had several years of experience with someone who refuses to bathe and eats at irregular hours.”

“I like to think I’m at least a little bit lower maintenance than that,” Dib joked, but there was a slight note of concern in his voice that Zim picked up on.

“You’re not putting me out, you know,” he said, looking up. “Remember that I _ willingly _ chased you down and brought you back with me. And today was, I assume, nothing close to what’s involved in normal human upkeep. You came with some assembly required.”

Dib smirked. “And absolutely no instructions.”

They walked the rest of the way up the hill in comfortable silence. GIR, having beat them to the top, came rolling down the grassy incline past them, squealing with joy.

“Between the blood and grass stains, I’m soaking everything we’re wearing in an entire bin of OxiClean tonight,” Zim sighed at they finally crested the hill. 

Dib turned and took in the glowing cityscape beneath them. It sparkled far out into the distance and on the opposite side of the valley, red cell tower lights winked on and off lazily. A few silent planes made their way across the open sky. He looked back down to see Zim sitting on the grass and motioning him over. 

“Lie back on me a moment; I want to show you some things,” Zim said. Dib sat down in front of him and then leaned back until his head was in Zim’s lap. He smiled up lovingly as Zim gently tousled his hair. “How are you emitting that much heat?”

Dib shrugged. “I’m just a human space heater, I guess. Too warm for you?”

“Nah, it’s chilly out. This is perfect.” Zim pulled out a laser pointer and pointed it upwards. A bright blue beam extended upwards from it, motes of dust sparkling as they passed through it. 

“Is that an earth astronomy laser pointer or …?”

“It’s an earth laser pointer,” Zim replied. “So far this is the only planet I’ve been on that has harnessed the power of lasers just to point at things. If it was Irken tech, something would have exploded by now.”

“We don’t use them _ just _to point at things … we use them to detect gravitational waves and do surgery and … play with cats.”

“Clearly the most important application of them all,” Zim said with a smirk. “Here, take this and find … I think your people call it the constellation of Orion. I’ll show you roughly where my neighborhood of the galaxy is.” 

Dib searched the sky for the bright stars that made up the belt. The moon wasn’t quite overwhelming enough to dampen their light and he traced the constellation with the blue laser beam.

“You know,” Zim said, “you’re one of the few civilizations to look up there, decide that clusters of stars look like animals or people or objects, and then decide that’s the best and most useful way to chart the stars.”

“Do you have a _ better _ system?” Dib asked, sounding a bit irritable.

Zim stroked his hair. “I’m not making fun of your culture, Dib. Humans are creative and I appreciate that about you. It’s just also amusing.”

Dib’s expression softened.

“What’s the human name for that big, orange star?” Zim asked. 

“What, Betelgeuse?” Dib asked, laughing. “_ Please _ don’t tell me you’re from a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse …”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? Or seen the movie?”

Zim gave him a bewildered look. Earth entertainment wasn’t really his forte. 

“Douglas Adams? No? Oh, man. You’re missing out! I think you’d love it. I’ll lend you the book series and then we can watch the movie when you’re done. It’s one of my favorite things.”

Zim hadn’t seen Dib this animated about something outside the realm of the paranormal just about ever. “Only if you take responsibility for the fact that any movie you bring into the house, GIR _ will _ watch eight thousand times and you will be entirely sick of it by the end of the week.”

Dib flashed a grin. “Not possible, since I’ve also watched it about eight thousand times and I’m not sick of it yet.”

Zim shrugged. “Your funeral. Anyway … I’m not from anywhere near Betelgeuse. I’m from a system so far behind it, your earth telescopes have yet to even pick up on it.”

“To be fair, you did say that the Tallest had no idea Earth was all the way out here, right?”

“Yes, well, even they can’t know everything,” he said. “And you should probably be thankful for that. They are aware of this general sector, though. Which is how I know that there are plenty of systems roughly in your neighborhood with intelligent — or, arguably intelligent — life on them. You see Aquarius up there?”

Dib searched for a bit, before finding it down near the horizon. “I’m blaming you if I’m pointing this thing at someone’s house right now.”

Zim put his hand on Dib’s and shifted the beam a little. “Right about there is a star system that has some startlingly earth-like planets with some startlingly not-earth-like inhabitants.”

Dib stared out in wonder.

Zim smiled down at him. “Want to go there some time?”

“Could we??” Dib said in awe.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want. All of the galaxy and beyond is yours for the exploring.”

“Just not Irk, right?”

Zim grimaced. “Never Irk, nor any of the Irken-controlled planets. It seems the Tallest have mostly forgotten about me at this point, but I’d really rather not push my luck. If they ever figure out how to _ actually _ delete my PAK, I’m in huge trouble. I really only passed my last Existence Evaluation on a technicality.”

“Do they have like … Double Jeopardy on your planet? Where you can’t be tried for the same crime twice?”

“You’re only supposed to be evaluated once, but they already pulled some malarkey where they pushed up the date. So I wouldn’t put it past them to try and evaluate me again.” His antennae perked over his head and he did his best impression of his Tallest. “_ ‘Oh, sorry Zim! Seems we mis-scheduled your Evaluation! Isn’t that funny? Anyway, next one’s in a month! Have fun waiting to die.’ _” He blew a raspberry and crossed his arms.

Zim’s over-the-top reaction shocked a laugh out of Dib, which he quickly tried to choke back down. “Fuck, sorry. I know it’s not funny at all.”

“It’s a constant concern, Dib.”

“I know,” Dib said, sounding guilty. “I’m sorry. It sucks and it’s bullshit.”

Zim’s scowl softened as he looked down at Dib, who — not knowing what to do about Zim’s rather serious banishment conundrum — reached up and pulled him down for a kiss, stroking his antennae gently between his fingertips. Zim slowly relaxed against him, purring softly against his lips. 

“This isn’t, like, something terribly intimate in your culture, is it?” Dib mumbled suddenly.

“What, the antenna-stroking?”

Dib nodded.

Zim thought a moment while Dib planted sleepy kisses on his cheek. “I suppose it’s not any more intimate than a kiss? That’s a hard one. We don’t really do either. Not a terribly romantic species, in case you couldn’t have guessed.”

“What I’m hearing, then,” Dib said, running his fingers up and down Zim’s antennae in a way that made his toes curl and a purr bubble up from his chest, “is that I’m the first person to hear an Irken purr.”

Zim relaxed into another kiss. “Mmm … very possibly,” he mumbled against Dib’s lips. He faded out a little, enjoying the sensation until he felt Dib’s hand slow and his grip slacken. Zim pulled back to find his human almost fully asleep. 

“You want to nap for a little bit before we go back?”

Dib nodded, then yawned and snuggled against Zim’s leg. Zim ran his fingers through Dib’s hair; it was quickly becoming his favorite thing about Dib. His hair was thick and soft and it felt to Zim like petting a rather fluffy dog. Dib closed his eyes and smiled at nothing in particular.

Zim stared up at Betelgeuse and let it sink in that there really was no going back to Irk at this point. Now that he had admitted his feelings for Dib and they had been reciprocated, he had no reason to conquer earth and no reason to call in to the Tallest ever again. He would effectively be accepting his banishment as a permanent state of being. He had expected to feel more of a sense of loss in admitting that he would never gain the Tallests’ favor. There was still a deep ache left in the place once occupied by his frantic desire for their approval, and he expected it would be a long time before that went away completely. But he felt more of a desire to do right by Dib than anyone else. After all, Dib had showered him with more genuine compliments in the past few hours than Zim had received in most of his life.

So he’d never be able to return to Irken-controlled space. So what? Hadn’t that been the case for a while? He suspected that, even if he had conquered Earth and the next ten adjacent inhabited planets, he would always be too short and too much of a liability. Not to mention, he would always be defective.

That word still made Zim’s insides turn to lead. The idea that there was something inherently wrong with him, a lifelong defect that could never be fixed, was nothing less than horrifying. Especially considering it had alienated him from his people so thoroughly and nearly gotten him killed more than once. He didn’t even fully understand how or why he had ended up this way, or the full range of functions it affected.

Zim looked down at the pale, gangly human napping peacefully in his lap, suddenly wondering if the mechanism that made him so defective in the eyes of his own people might also be responsible for his strange feelings of affection for Dib. Could being defective really be so bad, if it gave him someone to love? Especially someone who loved him back? Zim was certain in that moment that he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else in the universe. Even just the thought of losing Dib ached more than finally giving up on winning the favor of his Tallest. 

Dib stirred in Zim’s lap and, as if sensing his emotional turmoil, pulled one of Zim’s hands to his mouth and kissed it gently. Zim looked down to see Dib staring up at him, sleepy-eyed and smiling. 

“Ready to go home?” Zim asked.

“I’m still too tired to walk back right now … let me nap a little longer and then we can.” Dib closed his eyes again.

“I’m getting cold, though,” Zim said with a frown. 

Dib rolled off Zim’s lap and onto his side and held his arms out. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Zim laid down and Dib pulled him close, exhaling a long, warm, happy sigh across his antennae. 

“Pull your legs up into your hoodie,” Dib mumbled sleepily. Zim did as he was told, and Dib pulled his knees up towards his chest, wrapping most of his body around Zim. “You’re so small,” he said with a smile. He felt Zim tense and kissed his head. “Calm down. That’s not an insult. I love that I can just … hold you like this. I love that you’re portable. I love that I can put you in my clothes and they’re all big and floppy on you.”

Zim nuzzled against his neck. “Do you love _ me _?” he asked softly. It was so off-hand he was clearly expecting a simple “yes”.

Dib froze, suddenly, and was quiet for long enough to make Zim nervous. 

“Humans usually wait a little bit to say that,” he eventually said, sounding suddenly much more awake.

“You need longer to figure out if you love me?” Zim asked, quizzically. At this point, Zim had done enough soul searching that he was positive that he was in love with Dib. So how dare Dib not be certain he loved Zim back just as much?

“It’s not that … it’s just not usually a thing you say when it’s been like … less than 24 hours since you’ve started dating someone.”

“Why is that considered too early if you really love someone?”

“I don’t know …” Dib said, flustered. “To avoid scaring the other person off?”

“I’m not scared,” Zim said, slightly exasperated. He thought for a moment. “Are you scared?”

Dib finally leaned back to give Zim a searching look. He ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head towards the sky. “_ Everything about this _ scares me, Zim,” he whispered. “The way I feel whenever I touch you. The way you look at me. Thinking about how we’re inevitably going to fight and what the hell that's going to look like. How my dad will take this when I finally tell him. How everyone at school will react to this on Monday. And then I’m just left wondering if I made the right choice to drag you into everything because dealing with me is just such a massive clusterfuck.” Dib chewed at his cheek to try and stop the tears that threatened to spill over. Why was this all so confusing? “The way I feel about you … I don’t ever want to _ not _be with you. But I’m scared we don’t have the coping mechanisms for this and my dad already hates me and so does everyone at school so …”

Zim put a hand on his cheek. “Dib …”

“What?” he said, still looking up at the sky. Zim could see little pinpricks of light reflected off his eyes.

“Look at me …”

“If I look at you I’m gonna cry, Zim. And I don’t want to. I’ve cried too much today.”

“It’s a new day.”

“Fine. But I don’t want to start it by crying. It makes me feel gross and human.”

Zim propped himself up on one arm so he could look down at Dib. He pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “You’re not gross. But you are human and that’s okay.” 

Dib nodded, and Zim laid back down on his side. Dib finally turned and pressed his face into Zim’s hoodie, head resting just below his chin. Zim held him close and played absently with his hair. 

“Maybe neither of us currently have the necessary coping mechanisms, but we’ll figure this out as we go along,” Zim said, tucking a wisp of hair behind Dib’s ear. “If it makes you feel better about us, we can agree to some ground rules. Say, if any disagreement turns into yelling, we stop and go cool off for a bit in different rooms.”

“We yell a lot …” Dib said, muffled. 

Zim kissed his cheek. “We’ll learn to yell less, then. I think it also goes without saying that I’m banned from world domination you’re banned from putting my organs on display.” He heard Dib laugh a little and smiled. “And absolutely no physical violence for any reason.”

A soft breeze rustled the grass and ruffled Dib’s hair. Zim shivered and Dib held him a little closer, rubbing his back slowly.

“I want to get better at talking things through in general,” Dib said softly. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve lived in my own head an awful lot up till now.”

Zim nodded. “We can work on that.”

He idly played with Dib’s hair, listening to his uneven breaths and the too-fast beating of his heart. He was clearly stressed out, still. “Why are you so afraid of what other people will think of us?” he asked softly.

“Zim … I’m tired and it’s complicated.”

“Please?”

“It really _ will _ make me cry …”

“So you’ll cry and I’ll be here for you and we’ll both be alright.”

Dib took a deep, shaky breath. “I just … don’t know how my dad will react to me being gay. I mean, I _ think _ I’m gay? You’re the only person I’ve ever liked. Liking you makes me gay, right?”

Zim shrugged. “Probably? Maybe? I don’t know, Dib. I don’t see human gender.”

Dib let out a short laugh despite himself. “Well, aren’t you evolved.”

“Your father wouldn’t really be upset over that, would he?” Zim asked, quizzically.

“I really don’t know. As it is, he just finds every little reason to criticize me and tell me I’m wrong. Nothing I do is right to him. I kind of feel like whoever I dated he’d have a problem with it. But being crazy _ and _ gay might be a step too far.”

Zim kissed his nose. “You’re not crazy.”

“But I _ am _ gay … I think …” Dib held him close and went quiet again, heartbeat still pounding away at a breakneck pace. 

“You haven’t told me why you’re so worried about what everyone at school will think,” Zim said, quietly. 

Dib scoffed. “Do I really have to?”

“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me. I’m not in your head, remember?”

“You’ve already seen the outcome of the sorts of things they do to me when you’re not around as it is. I just don’t want another target on my back. They just …” he looked up with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t push the hurt down any more and it started to bubble up, making him feel vulnerable and stupid again. “I don’t want to go into detail but … they did _ really awful _ things to me. I don’t even know if it could get worse but I’m really scared that it will. I don’t even want to …” he broke off with a sob. He really wished he could go one day without crying. His only consolation was that Zim held him close, still stroking his hair.

“I’ve got you, Dib. It’s going to be okay …”

“Is it, though?” Dib wailed. Zim’s heart broke for him. He had a feeling that he couldn’t even guess the full picture of everything Dib had been through.

“We’ve got the same class schedule and I won’t let you out of my sight. No one gets to put a hand on you. No one gets to even look at you funny. No one will ever get the chance to hurt you again.” Zim rubbed Dib’s back. “As for your dad … I mean, I’ve been to your house. He likes me, right? I think I can win him over. And if I can’t … you can come live with me until we finish high school and then we’ll run away and explore the universe.” He looked down at Dib, who was still sniffling and shaking and holding on to Zim for dear life. Zim held on right back, just as tightly. 

“There are so many stars out there, Dib,” he whispered. “So many things that defy logic and imagination. So many possibilities I want to share with you. So many places I can take you that will make you forget all the horrors you’ve suffered on earth.” He leaned over to kiss Dib’s tear-streaked cheek. “I love you, Dib, and I’ll do anything it takes to make you happy.”

He held Dib close and did his best to comfort him, hoping that, in time, he’d figure out how to make things not be terrible. His human seemed to have an awful lot of trauma, and Zim felt his guts twist at the thought that he might have been responsible for some of it. 

He wondered if, ten years from now, Dib would still be scarred by the things his classmates had done to him or his dad’s disappointment or the awful way Zim had treated him for all the years leading up to now. Would Zim still be spending nights letting Dib sob into his shirt, wishing to fix everything? Or was there a possible future where Dib’s traumas had finally faded so far into the rear view mirror that they were less real than the ghosts Dib spent weekends hunting?

Dib’s sobs eventually faded into sniffles and shaky breaths. “I’m sorry …” he whispered, finally looking up.

“It’s okay,” Zim said softly, brushing Dib’s hair out of his face. “You’ve been hurt so much more than any person should have to deal with. I wish I could fix everything for you.”

Dib looked up at him through sparkling eyes. “You care and you’re listening and I feel like you actually understand, and that counts for so much.” 

Zim held him close, listening to his breathing gradually slow down as his body relaxed. Zim was pretty sure that Dib had drifted off again.

“I really do love you, Dib,” he said softly. “And I understand if you can’t say it back yet. It’s just important that you know how much I care about you.” 

He was surprised to feel Dib respond by pressing a little closer. “I know …" he replied, just as softly."And ... I love you, too, Zim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zim is just on a race to hit as many relationship milestones in the shortest period of time and he doesn't even know it.


	9. To Write Love on His Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib finally opens up to Zim about his mental health struggles. Gaz warms up to the idea of Zim following her brother around like a lost puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the major delay in posting. Since I'm writing this from the perspective of someone who struggles with mental illness, this chapter got pretty personal and I was dragging my feet on finally releasing it. It was hard to put so much of myself out here into the public eye. Maybe it will strike a chord with you ... maybe it won't. Everyone's experiences are different.
> 
> Trigger warning for self-harm themes, but I'm guessing you already knew that if you made it in this far.  
*********************************************  
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* * *

__ So I put a bullet where I shoulda put a helmet  
And I crash my car 'cause I wanna get carried away  
That's why I'm standing on the overpass screaming at myself  
Hey, I wanna get better!

[ \- Bleachers,  _ I Wanna Get Better _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5osPtE7kXI)

* * *

Dib awoke slowly, the memories of the past 24 hours filtering through his head. He remembered Zim confronting him at his house before whisking him away and fixing him up … their fighting and their subsequent reconciliation … all the kissing … the late night dinner and then out to the hill at Zim’s behest. He rolled over and got a face full of sun that made him wince backwards. He blearily opened his eyes to find himself curled up on Zim’s couch. He tried to remember how he’d gotten there from the star gazing hill, but was drawing a blank.

“G’mornin’ Mary!!” yelled GIR from the other side of the couch. He didn’t have his dog suit on and he had a bowl of cereal in his lap. 

“Morning …” Dib mumbled, looking around for his glasses and failing to locate them in the blurry chaos of the room. His stitches ached and when he finally extricated his arm from the nest of blankets, he realized he was wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He searched around in the blanket nest for the rest of his clothing but all he found was his phone down by his feet. He pulled it out to check the time and discovered he’d slept well into the afternoon. His lack of memories about the trip home he could deal with; it was the lack of memories about when he had been divested of his clothes that really worried him.

“Um, GIR? Where’s Zim at?”

GIR shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and pointed upwards. 

“Thanks …” Dib wrapped himself in a blanket and made his way to the second floor. He could recall a time not too long ago when getting to wander around the base unfettered would have been the highlight of his week. Now he just felt uneasy wandering around without Zim by his side. 

The second floor was just as much an organized disaster as the rest of the base. Tables with all manner of devices in various states of repair lined the walls. Dib was pretty sure he recognized some of Zim’s failed world domination projects amidst various other unidentifiable pieces of junk. Directly to his right was Zim’s ship, but he didn’t see Zim. 

“You up here?” he called out, peering around.

“No need to yell; I’m right here,” came Zim’s voice from under the Voot Cruiser. 

“... Where are my clothes and why don’t I remember coming home?” Dib asked, nervously, before Zim’s feet had even fully come into view. 

Zim finally pulled himself back out from under his ship and stood up. He was back in a clean tunic and out of his disguise. 

“In the wash, and probably because you were deliriously sleepy. Respectively.” 

Dib still looked apprehensive and Zim perked an antenna. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t remember much of anything after going stargazing last night …” Dib said, a slight edge of panic in his voice.

“Well,” Zim said slowly, trying to stave off any full-blown anxiety attacks, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

Dib looked away. “Crying on you again,” he mumbled. 

“You dozed off again shortly after that. The sun started coming up and you were still too tired to walk home so I picked you up and carried you back here myself while it was still dark enough to do so discreetly. You asked me half a dozen times to carry you home, remember?” Zim was smiling but Dib cast his gaze downward, still looking uncertain. Zim’s smile fell and his brows knit together in concern. 

“I didn’t do anything to you, Dib, if that's what you’re worried about,” Zim said softly, stepping closer and reaching for Dib’s hand. “Honest. We came directly back here and I put you to bed. Your clothes were covered in grass stains so I had you give them to me to put in the wash. I may have kissed you after I got you settled in on the couch, but that’s it. I promise. I didn’t even sleep next to you. I’ve been up here all morning trying to fix my trash heap of a ship.”

“Did I take my clothes off in front of you?” Dib asked worriedly.

Zim managed to override his desire to roll his eyes. He couldn’t keep track of all the human modesty customs but he made a mental note to at least make it clear to Dib that Irkens didn’t share the same hangups.

“You were under the blankets when you took your hoodie and pants off,” Zim replied patiently. To his credit, he was being a good sport about being grilled. “Is there something in particular you’re concerned about?”

Dib licked his lips nervously. “Did you … did you see all of my scars?” he asked, his throat going dry. 

_ Oh. _ So that’s what this was about.

“The ones on your arms,” he replied, voice soft and full of pity. “But I’ve already seen those. And it’s not like I was looking for more.” 

Dib shifted nervously. “... Can we talk?”

Zim raised a confused antenna. “I thought that’s what we were doing?”

“No, I mean like …” The room felt like it was spinning and Dib felt breathless. “Oh fuck, I need to sit down,” Dib said, abruptly dropping where he stood. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally as Zim sat down next to him.

“Any time you want to tell me what’s happening here, that would be …  _ super _ ,” Zim said worriedly.

“Okay … yeah … sorry,” Dib stuttered. “Um … nobody else knows that I’ve struggled with self harm. You’re the first and only. But …” He nervously met Zim’s concerned gaze. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. My whole ….  _ Everything  _ … is kind of a mess. It’s not great to look at but presumably, at some point, you’re going to and I just … don’t want it to scare you off.” He looked at the floor, morose. “I’m so sorry … I know you’d never take advantage of me. I’m just … I hate what I look like. What I’ve done to myself.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me,” Zim said sadly. His heart ached for his human, so soft and vulnerable. “I promise it won’t scare me off. You have to remember why I brought you back here in the first place.”

Dib nodded, still looking forlorn.

“What if you just showed me now?”

Dib’s head shot up suddenly, eyes wide. “ _ What _ ?”

“Just get it over with?”

“I don’t know about that …”

“Are you going to be less nervous about it if it comes up later?” Zim asked.

Dib bit his lip. “No, probably not … you’re just …  _ kind of _ asking for a lot here …”

Zim held up his hands. “Alright, that’s fine. I won’t push you.”

Dib was quiet, nervously staring past the far wall. “Okay, you know what? Let’s just get it over with. Because you’re right; I’m going to panic about it otherwise.” He dropped the blanket from his shoulders and stood up.

He watched Zim’s eyes widen as he stood up as well and took in the damage; the litany of old and new scars up his unbandaged arm, the burn marks on his arms and legs, the ropey scars on the inside and outside of his thighs … 

“Oh, Dib …” Zim said, softly. “Oh … I am so sorry …”

Dib hadn’t been prepared for that reaction. “It’s not your fault …” he assured him. “None of those are because of you, I promise.”

“But I didn’t make it any easier for you, either,” Zim replied, guilt heavy on his voice. He gently reached over and touched just below Dib’s shoulders, fingertips just barely tracing over circular purple scars. “What did this?”

“Cigarette …” Dib mumbled. “I used to smoke. But I kind of hated it. Also burning yourself feels really awful and not as cathartic as I’d hoped …”

Zim ran his fingers down Dib’s arm, his hip, then over the letters spelling out “loser” and “freak” on his legs, whispering, “Oh, Dib … my poor Dib …” to himself. He rubbed his fingers across the words like he might be able to erase them from Dib’s skin. “You’re not a loser or a freak.”

“Would you believe those are some of the tamer things I’ve been called at school? I mean, you probably picked up on the fact that I’ve never really got along with the other kids.” He gave Zim an embarrassed glance. “I actually got kicked out of kindergarten the first time around. That’s why I’m 18 right out of the gate in the senior year of high school.”

“I’m sure whatever you did, they deserved it,” Zim said with a scowl. Dib sat back down and pulled Zim into his lap, wrapping the blanket protectively around both of them. Zim’s heart hurt more than he could put into words, but all he could do was hug Dib’s arms to his chest. 

“It wasn’t even that,” Dib said. “I just hid all the time. I’d run off during recess, sneak out of the room during nap time, hide under the tables at lunch. The other kids didn’t like me and I sure as hell didn’t like them. No one realized I was being bullied. They just suggested I try again next year.”

Zim leaned back against Dib and put his head on his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “You’re not alone anymore, Dib.”

Dib hugged him close and sighed. “I know. It feels good to finally be able to talk to someone about this stuff. And thank you for not freaking out. I was … terrified to finally let someone see what I’ve done to myself. I’ve been hiding all that for years.”

Gently, Zim reached for Dib’s unbandaged arm and held it to his lips. He kissed down the length of it, ending in a lingering kiss at Dib’s palm, which he then held gently to his cheek. “You’re not allowed to do this anymore,” he said resolutely. 

Dib groaned. “It’s not that easy…”

“Too bad. Zim commands it.”

“I would  _ love it _ if my coping mechanisms respected you, Zim. But I don’t have anything healthier to fall back on.”

“Then we’ll find better coping mechanisms and we'll find a way for you to unlearn this one.”

“How?” Dib asked, exasperated. 

“Any time you even think about hurting yourself, tell me. Immediately.” Zim looked up at Dib, completely serious. “I don’t care where you are or what I’m doing. I will drop everything and sit with you to talk through it until the urge passes.”

Dib gave a sad sigh. “Zim … I’ve been doing this because it’s the only way I know how to process the negative attention and fallout from all my fuckups. And …I don’t know how else to say this but sometimes I  _ deserve _ to hurt.”

“No, you don’t!” said Zim forcefully, standing up. He turned and sat down in front of Dib so he could look him in the eyes. “Not over what other people say and not over your mistakes. If other people don’t like you, it is _their_ loss, not yours! Any mistakes you make, we’ll move past together. Because there is _nothing—_ No, Dib, _look at me,_” Zim said, as Dib started to look away. “There is _nothing_ that is worth hurting yourself like that over.”

He climbed back into Dib’s lap. “No more hurting, Dib.” He sensed Dib was about to argue and cut him off. “Would you please just stop being difficult for  _ two seconds _ and let me love you?”

“Alright, alright …” Dib rested his head on Zim’s shoulder with a huff.

“No sulking, either,” Zim chided. “No hurting and no arguing and no sulking.”

“What am I left with, then?” Dib asked, but this time Zim could sense a hint of a smile.

“Let’s do something to cheer you up. What would make you less sulky? Oh, and happy ‘going 24 hours without dying’, by the way.”

“That’ll be hell to find a card for. And … fuck, I don’t know. Maybe we could go out to the mall for a bit,” Dib said, finally. “Watch some people. Buy some bubble tea. Eat a gross mall pretzel.”

“Hmm … I’ll pass on your weird earth breads but we do need to fix the whole problem of you only having two shirts.” His antennae sprang up above his head. “Well, one now, seeing as I had to burn the one from yesterday …”

Dib pulled back in a panic. “You did  _ WHAT _ ?? That was my  _ favorite shirt _ , Zim!”

“Oh, calm down. I’m joking. It’s in the wash with all the other borderline biohazards we’ve generated in the last day.”

“Jerk…” Dib muttered, but it didn’t have the bite it used to. “And I own more than two …” He went back to sulking while Zim cuddled up under his chin. 

“Come on, Dib. I have the monies, remember? Let me spoil you.”

“Alright, alright. On one condition.”

“If it will cheer you up, then anything.”

“We pick out some things for you.”

Zim made a face. “Anything except that. I have enough uniforms to last me until my dying days. Which, as you may remember, are a long while off.”

Dib leaned around and made puppy eyes at him. “Come on … it’ll make you blend in better.”

“I have been blending in fine for years, Dib.”

“By sheer dumb luck!” Dib countered. “Please?? You like the hat and the hoodie …”

“Yes. And those are mine now.”

“We can find you more stuff like that.” He looked more animated than he had all morning and Zim was having a tough time saying no. Dib’s eyes sparkled with possibilities. “Let me make you adorable, Zim.”

“Am I not adorable enough for you already?”

Dib kissed his cheek. “You are. You can just always be more adorable.”

“Alright, fine,” Zim said, finally giving in.

“Then we have a deal,” Dib said with a smile. “Let’s go back to my house so we can grab my car. Somehow I think the Voot might be a little conspicuous.”

* * *

Dib rifled through the drawers of his dresser while Zim did his best not to step on anything too important on the floor. Which was difficult. He spotted homework assignments and what he could only assume were ancient relics scattered between piles of dirty laundry and Snickers wrappers. 

Dib finished shoving all the crap he had pulled out back into the drawer and closed it with a groan. “Fuck, I think I left my keys downstairs …”

He looked over to see Zim staring into space, invisible brows knitted together and antennae quivering.

“Um, hello? Earth to Zim?” Dib said, waving a hand in front of his face.

Zim abruptly snapped out of it and looked blankly at Dib. “Sorry … say what?”

“Everything alright?”

“Ah, yeah,” Zim said, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge a particularly troublesome thought. “I just had a weird feeling, like I’d forgotten something. But it’s gone now, so no worries.”

“I guess I’m a little relieved that weirdness is just a universal trait of brains,” Dib said with a smile. “Anyways, the keys aren’t up here. I think I left them downstairs.”

“Do you want me to wait up here?”

Dib shook his head. “Nah, I think Gaz is gone for the weekend working on some project and dad won’t be back until Monday. We need to go through the garage to get the car anyhow.” 

They made their way out of his room and down the hall to the stairs. Most of the curtains were pulled, making the interior of the house rather dim. Despite the relative dark and quiet -- and much to Zim’s chagrin -- Dib kept pausing every few dozen feet to check that the coast was clear. He stopped short right at the bottom of the stairs, causing Zim to collide with him.

“Dib, why are we sneaking? This is your house! Open a window or turn on some fucking lights!” Zim said irritably, giving him a little push. 

“I just don’t want —”

“ ** _AND JUST WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL WEEKEND‽‽_ ** ”

The sudden booming shout caused Dib to nearly fall backwards while Zim shrieked behind him. Gaz popped up over the back of the couch, eerily silhouetted in the gloom and laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes.

“Oh my god, that was so much better than I pictured it in my head!” she cackled.

“That’s not funny, Gaz!” Dib yelled back with a scowl. “You just about gave me a heart attack!”

“Serves you right for disappearing on me yesterday. I hope kissing Zim was worth it.” She looked behind Dib and gave an over the top wave. “Oh, hi Zim.”

He flipped her off from where he leaned against the wall, hyperventilating. 

Dib sputtered. “Excuse me??”

Gaz smiled. “Come on. Everyone could see this coming from a mile off. And it was adorable how he turned up at our door yesterday all worried about you.”

“Hey,” Zim wheezed, pointing a finger at Gaz. “Not funny.”

Gaz put her hands up. “I’m not saying it is. I’m saying it’s cute how much you care.”

“What are you even doing here?” Dib asked, frazzled. 

“I live here, dumbass.”

“Yeah,  _ unfortunately _ . But I thought you had a group project or something.”

“Meh. I did but then I realized they’re all idiots so I’ve been working on it here by myself.  _ And _ watching the security feed. Which is how I know Zim snuck you out of the house yesterday. Actually, Zim, you should probably be a little  _ more _ sneaky about crawling out windows with your creepy cyborg legs. Someone might think you’re an alien or something.”

Dib held up his hands. “Look, Gaz, we can talk about this later. I’m just going to find my keys and then I’m going to leave. I’ll be back tomorrow and you can grill me then, alright?”

Gaz dangled a key fob in front of him. “The Yaris keys? Sure, you can have those …”

“Gaz …” Dib said, his tone dangerous.

“... Just admit you’re dating Zim.”

“Would you  _ please _ just give me my —”

Zim marched over and stood between Dib and his sister, having had just about enough of the whole situation. “As Dib’s boyfriend, I am telling you to back off. You have no idea what kind of day he had yesterday but he certainly doesn’t need to be taking shit from his own family right now. He has enough on his plate worrying about how the Professor is going to react!”

“ _ Oh my god  _ … Zim, please …” Dib groaned, rubbing his temples and wishing his boyfriend would stop giving Gaz more ammo. 

Gaz’s entire demeanor changed. “Wait, what?” She cast Dib a strange look. “Do you mean because you’re gay, or …?”

“ _ Yeah,  _ Gaz. The fuck else would it be about?”

“Why would dad care? He hasn’t been bothered at all about my girlfriend.”

Dib’s mouth hung open. “Wait. Your  _ what _ ?”

Gaz rolled her eyes. “You  _ really _ aren’t all that observant, are you? No, Dib — you’re not the only gay sibling and you’re not even the first to come out. Actually, I guess this makes you the last to come out.”

“Since when?”

“Six months, give or take.”

“How did I not know about this??”

“Because you’re not observant.”

“ _ No _ , because you never  _ told me  _ —”

Gaz tossed the keys at him and Zim caught them before they hit Dib in the face. 

“Dib, we’re leaving. Come.” Zim grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the garage door. 

“Don’t you dare tell dad before I get a chance to talk to him!” Dib shouted over his shoulder as Zim dragged him off.

“Alright, fine. I will not tell dad you’re dating your mortal enemy.”

“You’re not allowed to tell him I’m gay, either!”

Dib could hear the eye roll from across the house. “I will not tell dad you’re gay for your mortal enemy.”

He opened the garage door and heard a sarcastic, “ _ You’re welcome, _ ” before he slammed the door shut. He leaned back against it and slid all the way down to the floor. 

“I know I should be relieved, but I just know the only reason he’s okay with it is because it’s Gaz. As soon as it’s me, I swear it’s gonna be a  _ whole _ other thing,” Dib muttered. Zim sat down across from him and held his hands. “I just want him to accept me.  _ Us.  _ And if he won’t accept us … then that’s it. I’ll just have to leave and my relationship with Gaz will always be shitty and …”

He looked up to see Zim peering at him sadly. 

“I don’t want you to lose your family over this,” he said softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead when we decided to do this. But if it’s going to be a problem …”

Dib crossed his legs and tugged Zim towards his lap. “Come here.” Zim didn’t need to be told twice. “I don’t suppose I’d be any less gay if we weren’t dating right now, so don’t think for a second that I regret this or it isn’t with it. My family has always been …” he searched for the kindest word possible, before deciding on, “ _ difficult _ . If it’s not over this, it would be over something else.”

He looked down at Zim before gently pulling his hat back and kissing the top of his head. “At least I have someone who loves and understands me, now. That’s worth a lot. You still willing to let me come live with you if my dad kicks me out?”

Zim leaned back and nuzzled against Dib’s neck. “Of course. And if you can’t go to college, we’ll just fuck off from earth and explore the galaxy. I’ll teach you everything I know. You’re already pretty handy, right?”

“Oh man, you have no idea.” Dib reached for his phone. “This might not be very impressive to a guy who regularly builds doomsday devices, but check out what my car looked like before I fixed it.”

He handed Zim his phone, with a picture of a very smashed blue Yaris.

“I knew there was no way in hell I could convince my dad shell out the money to buy me a car, so I bought this one off a guy for basically pennies. All the damage was cosmetic so I replaced all the broken parts and then figured out how to give it a tune-up. The result is that it’s …  _ probably  _ not a death trap.”

Zim looked up at Dib, positively beaming with pride. “I’m impressed,” he said, because he was. He didn’t know the first thing about earth vehicles.

Dib blushed and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean, I’m sure you do more impressive work on the Voot …”

“Yeah, but someone taught me how to repair ships. You just did all this yourself. If I taught you everything I know, I bet you’d need a new teacher within a week.” He leaned in to kiss Dib’s nose. “You’re very smart, Dib, and I am very impressed with your work.”

Dib blushed and smiled, then grabbed Zim’s hat and put it back on his head. “Ready to take it for a spin?”

“That depends. What percentage of ‘not a death trap’ do you suppose it is?” Zim asked with a smile.

“Oh, at least 75%, for sure.” Dib stood up, picking Zim up with him.

“Hey! Whoa! What are you doing??” Zim asked, wiggling in his grasp.

“Carrying you,” said Dib with a smirk.

“I … can see that. Why?”

“I was just curious if I could. How much do you weigh, like 60 pounds, maximum? Oh, shit, can you even legally sit in the front seat?” 

Zim could tell from Dib’s smile that he was messing with him. He was about to reply when Dib suddenly sandwiched him between the car and his body and leaned in for a kiss. Zim was still a moment, surprised by the sudden display of affection and the abrupt change in mood. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll put up with the carrying for this.” He kissed back, wrapping his legs around Dib’s torso and his arms around Dib’s neck, pulling him close. He felt Dib’s hands move slowly up his sides, around his PAK and then up his bare neck, sliding under his hat to stroke his antennae. A happy shiver ran through his body. He relaxed into the feeling, leaning back a little and biting Dib’s lower lip — taking care to avoid his piercings — as he exhaled a soft purr. 

Dib pressed his body close with a low moan and Zim kissed him again, running his fingers through Dib’s hair, sharp nails tickling his scalp. Zim kissed him deeper, listening to Dib’s breathing and heart rate increase as his movements grew more frantic, his calloused fingers trembling as they moved down the length of Zim’s antenna. Zim could feel himself getting lost in the heat of Dib’s body and all the little sounds he made when Zim held him tighter, pushed his tongue deeper, bit his lip, gently tugged at his hair, ran his nails down the soft skin of Dib’s neck … 

He could hear Dib panting and feel hot breath against his skin, each exhale loud and close. Dib pressed up against him again with a sort of barely contained desperation, rolling his body in a way that made every bit of Zim tingle. He could feel the waves of electric desire rolling off of Dib, and it suddenly occurred to him that Dib was pushing past normal just-kissing territory.

Finally, Zim pushed him back gently and gave him a curious look. “What, exactly, are you going for here?”

Dib, red-faced and breathing hard, looked away sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.” 

Zim planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “It’s fine. This just didn’t seem like a great time or place for more than kissing.”

“You don’t feel like losing your virginity in the back of a 2009 Toyota Yaris?” Dib asked playfully, wiping alien drool off his cheek. 

Zim just stuck out his tongue. “Don’t be gross.” He shook his head and sat back a little, giving Dib a curious look. One of the benefits of Zim wearing his disguise was that Dib actually had half an idea where Zim was looking, and right now he could tell he was staring with some interest at Dib’s half-inch tunnels, as if he was just noticing all of the hardware for the first time. He gently put his finger through one of the tunnels, then touched the rest of the piercings in Dib’s ear. 

“Did all that hurt?” Zim asked suddenly. 

“I mean, it involves getting stuck with a needle so all of them hurt at least a little,” Dib replied. “But especially the lip piercings. There’s an awful lot of nerves there, it turns out.”

Zim brushed his fingers over Dib’s lips. “Why do you do these things to yourself?”

Dib shrugged. “I like the aesthetic?” He wiggled his fingers with their chipped black nail polish in front of Zim. “I enjoy the pain a little bit … but mostly I just like the way it looks.” He gave Zim a searching look. “Does it bother you?”

Zim tucked a stray tuft of hair behind Dib’s ear. “Nah, It’s part of what makes you Dib. I just don’t like the idea of you hurting yourself. Even for the aesthetic.”

“I can maybe cool it on the piercings until I get the self harm issue straightened out. Would that make you feel better?”

He laid his head on Dib’s shoulder and nodded.

“Can’t really say no to you when you’re being this cute.”

“My secret weapon,” Zim said with a smile. They sat there a moment, enjoying the closeness. Zim’s antennae perked when he heard Dib’s stomach growl. 

“Fuck!! I forgot to feed you again. Why don’t you remind me when you need to eat, human?” he asked with a gentle swat at Dib’s face. 

“Ack! Hey, no hitting!”

“I’m not hitting! I’m reprimanding.”

“Ugh, fine,” he said, catching Zim’s hand before it could smack him again. “I’m just bad at listening to my body, alright? I have like … no executive functioning skills. Half the time I forget to shower and eat and put different clothes on most of the time if there’s not a physical person standing over my shoulder telling me to.”

Zim sat back and looked at him. “Are you requesting my assistance?”

Dib ran his fingers through his hair nervously, blushing. “I … I guess? I mean, I feel bad. Asking you to take care of me like that. That’s sort of a lot, right out of the gate … ”

Zim rolled his eyes. “You keep telling me that  _ everything I’m doing  _ is ‘a lot’, so maybe I owe it to you, hm?” He leaned in and pressed his forehead against Dib’s. “But this does mean you’re going to start bathing daily, smelly.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair.”

“Alright, let me down, already. Let’s go get you more than two shirts to wear so you actually launder your things between uses,” Zim said with a pointed look.

“How can you tell —”

Zim raised his non existent brows, one antenna cocked at an angle. “You come to school smelling like Febreeze and sadness, Dib. I don’t even need to observe your laundry habits.”

“I’m always depressed so don’t I always smell like sadness?” he grumbled, pushing his glasses up. 

Zim head-butted his hand in a distinctly feline fashion. “No. Sadness smells like Snickers, a microwave burrito, and a shirt you’ve worn for 7 days in a row.”

“You leave the Snickers out of it, Zim. I’m very sad and I need chocolate to deal with that sadness.”

“It’s more about the end result of the junk food and lack of washing. Also, you belong to Zim now; you’re getting fed better,” he said, folding his arms resolutely. 

“Better than  _ what?  _ You took me to  _ Denny’s _ last night!” Dib replied, exasperated. 

“Better than  _ nothing!  _ It was the only thing open and you needed calories!”

They stared at each other for a moment before Dib cracked and laughed, leaning in and pressing their cheeks together. Zim tensed, bewildered, and just let the moment happen. He was more than a little confused when he felt a tear slide down Dib’s cheek. 

“Are … you alright?” he asked with moderate concern. “You’re a little … all over the place today …” 

Dib shook with laughter, collapsing against the car and squishing Zim a bit. “I’m fine … I’m fine. It’s just … I don’t know. I would never have guessed we’d be sitting in my garage, yelling about how to best take care of me.” He lifted his glasses wiped his eyes on the back of his hand before resting his head on Zim’s shoulder and lightly kissing his neck. “Thank you for taking good care of me, Zim. I don’t even know how we got here, but I love you.”

Zim shook his head, bewildered, then hugged his human gently. “I love you, too. Even if you confuse me, sometimes.”

Dib finally set him back down on his own two feet and unlocked the Yaris. He hit the button on the garage door opener while Zim looked at his reflection in the side view mirror and straightened his hat.

Dib shifted the car into reverse and glanced over at Zim. “Seatbelt on, space boy.”

Zim crosses his arms. “Seatbelt? Pfft! Zim needs no seatbelt.”

“ _ Yeah _ , ya do.”

“Why? The Voot doesn’t have seatbelts. Besides, I’m sure you’re a — GAH!!!” he shrieked as Dib suddenly punched the car in reverse down the drive, slamming the brakes just before they reached the road. Zim’s head pinged off the dashboard and he came up swearing. 

“I was  _ ABOUT _ to say that I’m sure you’re a  _ competent driver _ , but  _ clearly I was WRONG! _ ” he screeched.

Dib was doubled over with laughter.

“What the  _ FUCK _ , Dib??” he yelled, rubbing his head. “That wasn’t funny!  _ What is the matter with you today??? _ ”

Dib gave him a look that suggested Zim was overreacting. “Geez, Zim. Sorry … I mean we used to play rough all the time …”

“Maybe now that we’re  _ dating _ you could  _ ease up a little _ , hmmm?? Cease and desist in your bruising of Zim???”

Dib shrank back, then tossed the car in neutral and pulled the parking brake, sensing that this might take a while. 

“Are we fighting? Should I get out?” Dib asked, nervously. “Because I can leave …”

Zim didn’t directly respond. “Ugh!! Well at least now I have a  _ nice matching bruise _ for the  _ black eye _ you gave me yesterday!” He turned away, sulking and gingerly rubbing his head. “You’re acting so  _ weird _ …  _ stupid _ human …”

Dib froze. Was he? He felt  _ good  _ for the most part. Better than he had in awhile, in fact. A little wired and twitchy, maybe. But definitely still  _ good _ .

“Weird how?” Dib asked cautiously.

“You’ve been  _ all over the place  _ all morning and it’s like you’re  _ not thinking _ before you do things!” He fixed Dib with a glare before adding, “ _ Even less thinking _ than usual!”

“Oh …  _ oh no  _ … shit. Um,” Dib sputtered, realization dawning on his face. “I can explain … maybe …”

“I’d love to hear it!” Zim shouted angrily, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Remember when I was talking about getting put on all those medications?”

“ _ Uh-Huh _ .”

“And you already know I’m, like … clinically depressed, right?”

“ _ Yep _ .”

Dib nervously ran his fingers up and down through his hair. 

“I’mmaybekindabipolarandIdon’ttakemymeds,” he said in a rush, looking away. 

Zim stared at him blankly, attempting to parse the sentence Dib had said in one breath. “Excuse me?”

Dib looked reluctant at the prospect of having to restate himself. “Ugh … Okay. I’m diagnosed with bipolar disorder and I don’t take the medication I was prescribed. Alright?”

Zim turned and blinked. “Erm. Alright. Let’s pretend I have a limited knowledge of human mental health, and we can work backwards from there.”

Dib reached out and Zim shied out of the way of his hand. “Dib, I need a  _ moment _ , okay?” he huffed. “Talk, don’t touch.”

“I … okay. I’m really sorry …”

“I  _ know _ you are. Just … explain to me. Please.”

Dib looked crestfallen. “Okay. I, um … I have the kind of depression where you also get these, like … periods of time with too much energy where you’re either happy to a terrifying degree or really irritable. And you talk to fast and do stupid shit because any and all impulse control goes out the window. That’s a manic phase. And I have meds to even out the mania and depression but I don’t take them because they suck.” He was sitting up nervously now, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at his piercings and shifting in his seat. He noticed Zim watching him and resolutely sat on his hands, attempting to sit still. “Sorry … talking about this makes me nervous.”

“I … can tell,” was all Zim could think to say.

“ _ Fuck _ . Sorry. I hate this. I don’t feel like me when this happens but I don’t feel like me on meds, either.” Dib slumped over, looking miserable. 

Internally, Zim was panicking. Why were humans so complicated? Just when he felt like he understood Dib, he had to go and do … whatever  _ this _ was.

“What’s wrong with the medication?” Zim asked, trying to be compassionate and hoping he wasn’t missing the mark too badly.

Dib gave a sort of frantic half laugh, half whine. “I’ve been on a bunch of them and they all make me sick and too out of it to function. Sometimes it makes it feel like the whole world has gone grey. At least right now I feel  _ something _ .” He looked up, fear and sadness evident on his face. “Even if that something is really, really scared. I’ve never gone through this with someone close enough to be collateral, Zim. Usually I only end up hurting me … I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well you can stop worrying, since it already happened,” Zim grumbled. He looked up at Dib’s horrified expression and immediately wished he could take it back. 

“I just wasn’t thinking … I’m really sorry,” Dib whispered.

“It’s fine. I’ll be alright. The bruise from yesterday is almost gone, anyway. I’m sure this one will be gone by Monday.”

Dib’s eyes were plaintive. “Would an ice pack help your head?”

Zim sighed. “Probably?”

Dib cut the engine. “Alright.” He got out and walked around to Zim’s door to open it. Zim gave him a pitying look and hopped out, still feeling like he only barely had a handle on the situation. 

As they made their way back inside and into the kitchen, Gaz—who had what looked like a week’s worth of homework spread out on the kitchen table—looked up, saw Zim holding his head, and gave them an exasperated look. 

“Did you two manage to get into a fight  _ on the way to the car _ ??” she asked, sounding disappointed in both of them. “And here I was, expecting more from you …”

“I’m not in the mood, Gaz,” Dib said shortly as Zim trailed behind him.

“Aw, Zim, come here … what did my brother do to you?” 

Zim was still miffed at her for earlier but he was also a sucker for attention and slightly  _ more  _ miffed at Dib at the moment. He took his hand off his head and she pushed his hat back and ran her fingers along the bruising on his face before turning to Dib, shocked. 

“Did you  _ hit him _ ??”

“No, it’s okay … the black eye is from yesterday,” Zim explained. Dib facepalmed behind him, wondering if Zim was being  _ deliberately _ obtuse about how he sounded or just the normal amount of obtuse.

Gaz gave Zim a horrified look. 

“We weren’t dating yet!” he explained, as if it somehow made it better. “The  _ other _ one is from hitting the dashboard because he hit the brakes to teach me a lesson about seatbelts.”

_ Ah. Deliberately obtuse, then.  _ Whatever … Dib was pretty sure he deserved what he had coming to him.

Gaz whipped around, eyes wide. “Dib!!!”

“Can I help you?” he asked sarcastically as he handed Zim an ice pack out of the freezer. 

“Did you apologize to him??” she demanded. 

“Yes! I did! Profusely!”

She turned to Zim, who nodded. “He did apologize profusely. And I forgive him because he’s manic and he can’t help it.”

“ _ Jesus Christ …  _ Zim!!” Dib turned to see Zim giving him a wry look. “In case it was up for debate, you are  _ absolutely _ crossing a line right now--”

“All I’m saying is what you told me, Dib,” Zim said with a shrug, ice pack held to his head.

“That doesn’t mean you can just go --”

“Oh my god …  _ Dib!!! _ ” Gaz yelled in frustration.

“What, Gaz??  _ What _ ??”

“ _ This _ is what happens when you go off your meds!” She got up to go dig through the pantry and emerged a few seconds later, hurling a pill bottle at Dib. Which he caught. Barely. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and shoved it at him as she walked back to the table. She sat down and gave him a pointed look. “Go on; take them now.”

Zim was getting the distinct feeling that he really  _ had _ crossed a line as he watched Dib’s entire demeanor shift.

“Or  _ what _ , Gaz?” he asked icily. “I’m 18. I’m an adult. And that means I can’t be threatened with  _ the system _ anymore.”

“Take them or I’ll tell dad.”

Zim watched as Dib’s expression darkened and Gaz just sat, reclined, with her arms over her chest. He felt wholly responsible for the rather uncomfortable scene playing out before him and wished he could slink out of the room without being noticed.

“You’re  _ really _ punching below the belt right now,” Dib said, staring at the bottle.

“Better than having you punching Zim,” Gaz said, lifting the ice pack and inspecting the progress of the bruise blooming between Zim’s eyes. She turned back to Dib with an incredulous look. “He’s  _ tiny _ , Dib. You could really hurt him.”

Zim looked slightly rebuffed.

“Have you  _ missed _ the part where he routinely kicked my ass for six years?” Dib said, flabbergasted. “No offense, Zim,” he added as an aside. “Still shouldn’t have sent you flying. But I think we both know you’re both damn near indestructible and very capable of taking me in a fight.”

Zim nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

Gaz stared at them a moment. “You two are just …  _ absolutely _ something else.” She slumped over on the table, head in her hands. “Ugh … Dib.  _ Look _ . I don’t know how to explain to you that you can’t just cause him bodily injury like you’re still rivals. It’s not as though he’s going to fight back like he used to.” 

Dib looked chastised. “Yeah, it’s a poor excuse,” he muttered. “You don’t have to tell me … I know.”

“Good. Then start acting like it.” She stood up and turned to Zim. “I think I have some costume makeup from Halloween last year that matches your skin tone. Let me see if I can at least cover all that so no one thinks my brother is abusing you.” She turned to Dib. “And  _ you _ ; take those. Now.”

Dib glared at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I’m  _ waiting _ …”

Dib angrily opened the bottle of pills. “This is going to make me puke, you know. I haven’t eaten today.”

“Don’t care.”

“You could  _ at least _ wait until they’re not guaranteed to make me nauseated.”

“You lost that luxury when your recklessness started involving other people.”

Dib tossed a pill in his mouth and chugged the glass of water. When he was finished, he slammed the empty glass down on the table. “I’ll be thinking of you when I’m pulled over on the side of the road, puking.” 

Gaz gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. “Go grab a breakfast bar or something while I fix your poor boyfriend up.” She turned on her heel and walked briskly out of the room.

Dib grumbled all the way to the pantry, picked up something he thought wouldn’t taste awful the second time around, and went back to the table in a huff. He angrily munched a mint chocolate Cliff bar while Zim sat across from him with his head resting on his folded arms, looking small and unhappy.

“I’m sorry, Dib,” he said softly. “I was messing with you because I was still a little pissed off but I didn’t mean for it to turn into … a whole  _ thing _ .”

Dib shoved most of the bar into his mouth in one bite. “No,  _ I’m _ sorry. I deserved every bit of that. I was acting like a psycho. I’m sorry I pulled that stunt in the car and — since I never apologized for it — I’m sorry I hit you yesterday. I didn’t know how to interpret your concern and I wouldn’t have known what to do with it at the time if it had.”

“That makes two of us,” Zim said, with a melancholy smile.

“I’m so shitty at caring about you,” Dib said quietly. “I really didn't anticipate being so  _ spectacularly bad _ at just … not injuring you for one fucking day. You chased me down when I was belligerent and suicidal and fixed me up so I didn’t have to go to a hospital and made sure I ate and carried me home and tucked my delirious ass into bed and did my laundry and … how do I repay you? With a  _ mild concussion _ !” He took his glasses off and angrily combed back his bangs with his fingers. “ _ Good job, Dib. _ ”

“I mean, you’re glossing over the part where I  _ did  _ heavily imply I would do you bodily harm yesterday,” Zim admitted. 

“You somehow managed to menace me in the most gentle way possible after I punched you for trying to help me, so it's forgiven. I bounced you off my dashboard for laughs. I think that makes me worse.”

Zim hopped down off the chair and climbed up into his lap. 

“Touch is okay now?” Dib asked nervously. 

“Please just hug your Zim … I think we both need it.”

Dib complied and held him close, taking comfort in the way Zim relaxed into him. “It won’t always be like this, I hope,” Dib mumbled from where his head rested on Zim’s shoulder. 

“It’s worth remembering that we’re less than 24 hours into a relationship after more than half a decade of being mostly rivals,” Zim pointed out. “A year from now, this is going to look different. Really, a week from now, this will probably look different.”

Dib gave a long sigh in response.

“I’m not mad about the black eye,” Zim said, reaching over to stroke Dib’s cheek. “What I am a little miffed about is your omission of pertinent health information.”

“I didn’t think it was  _ relevant _ ,” Dib said sadly. “I’ve been purely depressed for about two years now. I can’t even remember the last time I was manic. It just happens so infrequently. And you already knew about the depression so I thought that was enough. I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”

“Okay,” Zim said quietly. “As long as you know you don’t have to hide things from me. I promise I’ll never be mad at you for being human.”

Dib hugged him gently. “I’m going to learn to do better, you know. I’m going to learn to take care of you and love you in the healthiest way possible. I’m going to …” he groaned suddenly. “I’m going to probably throw up in a couple minutes. Ugh. Sorry. That medication has a greater than 50% chance of making me yak.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to take it.”

“I wish there was something that worked. I hate being like this,” Dib whined. “I hate either being a massive spaz or too depressed to function. I hate hurting people I care about because I’m just not thinking straight. I wish there was something out there that could fix me but I’ve tried damn near everything and I’m just so burned out on it.”

Zim turned and looked at Dib, biting his lip. “Do you … want me to try?”

Dib blinked. “What?”

“I could … I mean, look. I  _ cannot _ promise it will work … but I can try to come up with something that will regulate your mood issues without … gastrointestinal upset and other associated unpleasantness.”

Dibs eyes went wide. “Would you, really?”

“I have a lab and if you’re a willing test subject, then let’s give it a try.”

Dib hugged him close. “God, I love dating a mad scientist.” 

“Since I’m going to be literally picking your brain, anything else I should know about?” 

“Uh, ADHD, some sensory processing issues … I don’t know. Dad had me tested for damn near everything. Those are the ones that have stuck.” His stomach growled dangerously and his face suddenly fell as he quickly released Zim. “Oh fuck …”

“One step ahead of you!” Zim said, leaping out of Dib’s lap as his poor boyfriend sprinted for the bathroom. He sat back down, feeling a bit helpless, as Gaz finally came back down carrying a makeup box.

She looked around. “Where’s Dib?”

Zim jabbed a thumb down the hallway. “Throwing up in the bathroom,” he said, tactfully.

Gaz sighed and flopped down in the chair next to him. “ _ Fuck _ . I was really hoping he was bluffing. I feel mean now …” She cast Zim a worried look and then hung her head backwards over the chair with a groan. “It’s just  _ frustrating _ … Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t  _ want _ to get better!”

Zim looked at his feet. “He’s pretty upset about the whole ‘braking hard enough to slam my head into the dashboard’ thing.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Gaz said. “But he doesn’t do anything to prevent stuff like this from happening in the first place.”

“To be fair, the medication doesn’t seem to agree with him.”

“It’s not just that,” Gaz said as she opened the box, dug around, then held up a few different shades of green costume makeup to Zim’s face. “He has no actual sleep schedule and forgets to eat and basically does all of the things that make his condition worse. And he doesn’t seem to realize what an issue it is until it comes back to bite him in the ass. It’s just that …” she leaned back a moment, frazzled. “ _ This _ is why our dad is harder on him, you know? He just acts like a total lunatic sometimes and it’s  _ frightening _ to watch from the other side. As a parent, you probably feel like you have to try and do something about it before somebody gets hurt. Not to mention that dad thought his insistence on you being an alien was evidence of  _ psychosis _ that needed to be managed, so that hasn’t helped.”

Zim looked away guiltily.

Gaz looked up from the tube of costume makeup she’d just opened. “It’s not your fault he couldn’t figure out he needed to stay quiet about it.”

“Quiet about  _ what _ ?” Zim asked defensively.

She raised an eyebrow. “I know you’re an alien, Zim.”

He pursed his lips.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“And I’m not going to subjugate your planet for the glory of the Irken Empire anymore,” he replied evenly.

“That’s nice of you. Especially considering you’re dating the one person who might actually be okay with destroying all humans.” She got to work gently covering the bruises on Zim’s face and he sat, eyes closed, patiently in front of her. “Are you taking better care of him than he does himself?” she asked softly. “I noticed you got him to shower.”

“For the most part,” Zim replied, trying to stay as still as possible. “He …” Zim opened his other eye and looked Gaz over. “Look … we barely know each other. Honestly, I barely know  _ Dib.  _ I already fucked things up just now so … can I trust you not to use what I’m about to tell you against him?”

“I like messing with my brother because he’s a hot headed pain in the ass, but I don’t want to hurt him. So don’t worry.”

Zim kicked his feet nervously. “I took him with me yesterday because he’d … hurt himself really badly. And I needed to fix him because he wouldn’t let me take him to the hospital. He’s fine now,” Zim said hurriedly as Gaz’s expression grew concerned. “I took care of him. But … you’re probably going to be seeing a lot of me, now. I need to keep an eye on him. Take care of him. He seems to need an awful lot of that …”

Gaz gave him a grateful look and nodded. “I appreciate that. I’d be a little pissed if he died. You’re sure you’re up to the task, though?”

“I care about him a lot,” Zim replied softly. “He’s worth the effort.”

“So did he finally confess his undying love to you before or after you whisked him away?” Gaz asked with a grin.

Zim closed his eyes as she dabbed green paint around the edges of his eyelid. He laughed softly. “I see now … you’re cornering me for gossip.”

“How the hell else am I going to get it out of you? Now, come on! Details! Dib is sure as fuck never going to tell me.”

“Oh, fine. It was after. After I fixed him up and we yelled at each other a bit and he said no one liked him and I said …” Zim looked suddenly sad. “... I said _ I did _ . I didn’t know if he … but he  _ did _ . And … Gaz, he is  _ really _ not happy at home,” he blurted out. Gaz pulled back a moment and sighed.

“He’s really not happy  _ anywhere _ . That’s part of the problem.”

“I know, but …” Zim shot her a worried look. “He said your family would be happier without him.”

“That’s not true …” Gaz said softly. “Like I said. He’s a pain and I enjoy messing with him. It’s just how we are. But I’ll ease up if it’s really that bad.”

“He’s really scared to tell your dad about us.”

Gaz leaned in, covering up the visible bruise just above Zim’s eyes. “He shouldn’t be. Dad’s not discriminatory like that. Plus he likes you just fine.”

“That’s what I said!”

“See? Nothing to worry over.”

“I mean, it isn’t just that. He’s worried he’s going to get beat up at school”

“What is the  _ deal _ with everyone in your grade? They’re a special kind of awful. But they’re at least afraid of you, right?”

Zim puffed up a little. “If they aren’t, they really should be.”

“Good. Then just don’t leave him alone for any reason. That’s an order.”

“Can do.”

“Un-crease your brows a moment … thank you. And … that should do it.” 

She handed him a small mirror and he looked at himself, turning his head to try and see where the makeup ended and his skin began. “That’s … really impressive,” he admitted, handing the mirror back.

“Where were you two headed?”

“The mall,” Zim said. “To buy Dib enough clothes he stops re-wearing the same t-shirt five times in a row. And so he can play dress-up with me…” he muttered.

Gaz held up a purple eyeliner pencil. “In that case, want me to do you up real nice before you leave?”

“How do you people keep guessing--”

“It’s the contacts. Now are you going to let me do this or no?”

“Bleh.”

“Come on …” Gaz coaxed.

Zim rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine. If you must …”

Gaz grinned. “Shut up. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Zim looked embarrassed but nodded. She uncapped the pencil and he closed his eyes.

“Our dad will be back on Monday,” she said as she gently moved the pencil across his skin. “Then you two can tell him and finally get this over with. Honestly, I think he’ll be happy Dib’s finally found someone.”

“Even if that someone is me?” Zim asked, cautiously. “Dib’s right. We did spend the last six years beating on each other.”

“For better or for worse, I think dad has always assumed that Dib instigated most of it. And you’re not going to do that any more, right?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. As long as neither of you turns up with any more bruises, you should be fine.”

“He didn’t do it to be mean, you know …”

Gaz heaved a sigh. “Yes, but you have to think about how it looks to a parent, regardless. You’re just going to have to be careful. Especially since you apparently bruise like a peach. That’s something else you two maniacs have in common. You’re both delicate fucking flowers ...”

“Understood …”

“Just come here after school on Monday with Dib and talk to our dad and get it over with as soon as possible. Especially because Dib will eventually work himself into a panic attack and then it will never get done.”

“That sounds like my Dib …”

“Okay, hold your breath a second …” she dusted Zim’s face with a soft brush and a light, glittery powder. “There we go — finished!”

“Wow, how did you talk him into  _ that _ ?” asked Dib from the doorway. Zim wondered how long he’d been standing there. He was wearing different clothes than he had been earlier and he looked a bit pale. He walked over and Zim hopped off the chair and tugged on the hem of his hoodie. Dib shrank back.

“Ugh, Zim, I brushed my teeth like twenty times and washed my face and changed my clothes but I  _ know _ how you are with smells and I still  _ feel like _ I smell like vomit …”

“You don’t …” Zim said with a pout. He did, kind of. But it was heavily masked by pine-scented deodorant and mint toothpaste and Zim wanted physical comfort from his human so he figured he was telling the good kind of lie.

“Okay, fine.” Dib sat down and Zim clambered onto his lap, snuggling close. “Someone’s feeling huggy out of the blue,” Dib said, raising an eyebrow. “She wasn’t mean to you, was she?”

“Oh, don’t even. You can tell I took good care of him. He looks better than when you left.”

Zim flashed him a smile, glittering contentedly. 

“You two are so sickeningly cute, I’m going to have to leave before I developed diabetes,” Gaz said, packing up. “Oh and Dib? I’m picking out what clothes you buy for you and Zim, so send pictures. I’m not letting you two go to school on Monday looking frumpy. If you’re going to be a gay power couple, you’ve got to look the part.” She left the kitchen with a wave of her hand. 

Dib stared at Zim, taking in the purple winged eyeliner and general sparkliness of Zim’s face. “What …. in the  _ fuck _ … just happened?” he asked in bewilderment. 

Zim shrugged. “We had a chat. It was nice.”

Dib just shook his head incredulously, choosing to let Zim’s misinterpretation go without mention. “Alright. Well, you okay to get going looking like that?”

“What’s wrong with looking like this?”

“Nothing at all,” Dib said, backtracking hastily. “You’re adorable.”

“And you’re looking a little off, still,” Zim said with his usual amount of tact. “Are you going to be well enough for me to feed you?”

Dib looked a little green at the prospect. “I hope so.”

Zim absently picked at some lint on his hoodie, then turned his head to look upwards. “She didn’t mean to make you sick, Dib.”

Dib looked away, glaring at the kitchen tile. He gave a noncommittal grunt.

“ _ Really _ . She felt bad about it. She just worries about you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” Dib muttered. 

“I know,” Zim said gently, stroking Dib’s cheek. “But don’t write her off completely just yet, okay? I talked with her about toning things down with you.”

“Oh, is  _ that _ why she was borderline friendly when I came back?”

Zim nodded.

“Alright. Thank you for talking with her. I guess I’m lucky everyone else finds you so damn disarming… ” He stared at the tile, lost in thought until Zim gave a pitiful whine from his shoulder.

“Can we  _ please _ get some actual food now?”

“Alright. But you’re wearing your seatbelt this time. Especially because the car will ding at me if you don’t, and I’m not about to listen to  _ that _ for the next ten minutes.”

Zim stuck his tongue out. “Alright, fine. I will abide by your silly human transport rules.”

“You’re lucky I don’t put you in a booster seat.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you the chapters would get longer!
> 
> Also absolutely no offense meant to those for whom psych meds are enormously helpful. There just happen to be some of us who can't take them. And it's a frustrating place to be.


	10. Paper Dolls and Paper Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy chapter about bonding, Dib being introspective, and reasons why you should just learn to stop worrying and let your 184 year old alien boyfriend break gender norms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I promised this like a week ago and then ... totally failed on the follow-through. My mental health has kinda sucked lately.
> 
> Anyway do you like fluff? This chapter is just _brimming_ with it.
> 
> *********************************************  
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_ I'll sing that song,   
a little bird in your throat,   
swallowed by love,  
Down in your lungs,   
I give you all of my notes to carry on _

\- Glowbug _ ,  False Metal _

* * *

Dib munched on his tikka masala from the grocery store hot bar, feeling slightly better now that he’d had a proper meal. Beside him, Zim ate quietly and kept an arm firmly around his waist. Dib rested a hand on Zim’s head and he looked up. 

“Are you okay?” Dib asked gently. “You have been  _ really _ quiet and clingy ever since we went back to the house.”

Zim leaned against him, looking nervous. “Remember earlier when I said I had a weird feeling I’d forgotten something?”

“Mhmm …”

“It came back. I tried to ignore it but it’s just getting worse and … grounding myself with you is the only thing that makes it any better.”

Dib rubbed his back. “Your people don’t have like … ESP, do they? Clairvoyance?”

Zim gave him a curious look. He sometimes forgot that Dib considered that sort of thing a perfectly acceptable question to ask. 

“I don’t think so … At the very least, I’ve been told I lack even basic self awareness,” Zim grumbled. He shoveled the last few bites of his food into his mouth, then chased a lone grape around the plate with his fork. “So … edgecase …” he started, without looking up. “If your dad doesn’t approve of us, for whatever reason, are we going to break up?”

“That’s not what has you worried, is it?”

“No, but it popped into my head. I figured I’d ask.”

“I already said I’d leave if he was unsupportive.”

“Yes, but you were also upset with Gaz and acting strange at the time so I just … figured I’d double check that nothing had changed.”

Dib pulled him into a gentle hug, one hand on his back and the other behind his head. “No. You’d have to do something pretty crazy for me to leave you at this point. Besides, if I go live with you and we can watch movies every night and learn to actually cook and do each other’s homework so we have more free time to cuddle and hunt monsters and build things and go to other planets.”

“When you put it like that, it makes me kind of hope he’s going to be difficult about it,” Zim said with a small smile.

“We can still do all that no matter what, you know.” He cocked his head. “You really want to come hunt ghosts and monsters with me? I haven’t been able to get anyone else to even humor me.”

“Now that you’re through hunting me, nothing would make me happier.”

Dib kissed him and then went to toss their plates in the compost bin. In the time it took him to come back, the anxiety had settled back in and Zim was looking worried again.

“I’m  _ moderately certain _ that I’ve forgotten something  _ extremely  _ important,” he mumbled, starting to get frustrated on top of things. 

“What’s that old saying about how if you forgot, it wasn’t important or it was a lie?” Dib quipped. Zim shot him a grouchy look and he held up his hands. “Alright, geez, sorry. It’s clearly neither of those things if you’re this worked up about it.”

“It feels  _ very _ important, whatever it is,” Zim grumbled.

“Did you leave the oven on or something?” Dib kissed the side of Zim’s scowl.

Zim flinched away. “You are  _ really  _ testing my patience right now, Dib-thing.”

“Oof. Clearly. Haven’t been called that since before you declared your undying love for me.” 

Zim turned away in a huff. 

Dib sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. Humor is my defense mechanism … I wasn’t trying to have a laugh at your expense. I just wanted to lighten the mood.”

Zim was still feeling sulky so he didn’t respond. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He felt Dib’s hand slide off his shoulder as Dib stood up and walked off. Zim put his feet on his chair and pulled his legs up to his chest, then crossed his arms and put his head down on the table, resolutely stewing in his own misery. The feeling made absolutely no logical sense but was so completely overwhelming that he couldn’t let it go. If it was bothering him this much, there had to be  _ some _ reason behind it, right?

He had already ruled out all the usual culprits. He didn’t particularly care about school, so that couldn’t be it. (Nevertheless, he had mentally run through his school checklist and could think of no stray homework assignments, forgotten projects, or upcoming exams.) None of his world domination schemes were on a timer. (Zim wasn’t that sloppy.) Probing Day had come and gone without any indication the Tallest planned to check in on his “progress”. He had managed to dodge parent-teacher night this year by claiming his parents were on sabbatical in Japan. For once, it looked like Zim had all of his ducks in a row. So why wouldn’t this feeling just  _ leave him alone _ ?

He jumped as Dib set a bag down on the table in front of him.

“Sorry!” Dib yelped as Zim shot up, looking around blearily. “I thought maybe …” Dib pushed the bag closer to Zim. “This might help?”

Zim pulled it open, curious despite his gloomy mood. Inside were assorted candies.

“I had to kind of guess, because I don’t know what you actually like that we have here,” Dib said anxiously, “but hopefully I got it at least kind of right?”

Zim pulled out a bag of fruit flavored jelly beans and looked up. Dib was holding one hand out nervously in front of him and Zim gently nudged it with his head.

“You already know me too well. Thank you.” Zim was more than willing to hold a grudge indefinitely, but Dib was clearly trying his best. Not to mention, Zim was nothing if not food-motivated so the fact that Dib’s best included sugar definitely factored in.

“Does this mean I can finally coax you over to the mall?” Dib asked hopefully.

Zim fixed him with a withering look. “You’re going to make me walk all the way there, aren’t you?”

Dib had been rather insistent that there was no reason to drive to the other parking lot after they ate; it was a waste of gas and they could make it across the busy intersection just fine on foot.

“Nah. But I’m not driving 30 seconds down the road, either. Hop up; I’ll carry you.” Dib picked up the shopping bag turned around.

Zim rolled his eyes, but stood up on his chair and wrapped his arms around Dib’s neck. “Give me your legs … there we go.”

Zim ducked his head as he noticed people staring as they walked past. “You’re embarrassing me, Dib.”

“They’re just jealous of how much I love you.” He kissed Zim’s arm.

They made their way out into the parking lot, where the sun was starting to hang low on the horizon. Zim looked up and popped a few jelly beans into his mouth, chewing noisily in Dib’s ear. Luckily, Dib had figured out quite a while back not to let Zim know he was being successfully irritating. It would only encourage him.

“That’s one of the things I really like about Earth, you know,” Zim said finally, pointing to the sunset. “Irk is just sort of covered in smog all the time, so we don’t get to see much of our sun. I’ve been to other planets where you can see the star they orbit, but Earth sunrises and sunsets are something special.”

Dib dug in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out his phone. Zim groaned. “I didn’t mean to prompt you to take a selfie …”

“Aw, come on. To celebrate the first successful day of our relationship and not annihilating each other? Please?”

Zim tossed more jelly beans in his mouth and munched moodily over Dib’s shoulder.

“Gaz made you look pretty so we should at least send her a photo as proof of life, don’t you think?” 

Zim sighed. “Alright, fine.”

Dib held up the camera with the sunset as a backdrop and smiled. Zim looked over at his ridiculous human, face full of metal and holding up a peace sign, and felt a dopey grin spread across his face despite himself.

“Perfect!” Dib pulled up the picture to show Zim. Dib was facing the camera but Zim was very clearly smiling in his direction. Zim’s slightly over-the-top makeup shimmered in the golden sun and the two of them couldn’t have possibly looked more mis-matched if they tried.

“You actually look happy,” Zim said, sounding surprised.

“Huh, I wonder why that could be,” Dib replied with a grin, resuming their trek to the mall.

“In all the years I’ve known you, I think you’ve mostly just looked miserable.”

Dib turned and kissed his cheek. “Wonder why  _ that  _ could be.”

“Well I’m making you happy  _ now  _ so that has to count for something,” Zim grumbled.

He stared up at the sky as they walked, and his antenna perked under his hat as he heard a melodic rumble in Dib’s throat as he began to hum quietly. Zim listened closely to see if it was anything he recognized. He was shocked to find that Dib could actually hum on key, so why couldn’t he  _ sing _ on —

Dib started singing softly under his breath. “ _ We live and front porches and swing life away, we get by just fine here on minimum wage— _ ”

“You can  _ actually sing _ ??” Zim said a bit too loudly in Dib’s ear. 

Dib flinched. “ _ Ow _ … yes, I can, thanks. Who the hell told you I couldn’t? I’d like words with them.”

Zim blushed. “I may have listened to you yell along to  _ Boulevard of Broken Dreams _ the other day. It was not your best work.”

He could almost hear the gears turning in Dib’s head as silence stretched between them. “Hey Zim?”

“Er … yeah?”

“How long were you standing outside my door yesterday?”

“I  _ may _ have tried to get in through a window before I rang your doorbell,” he mumbled into Dib’s shoulder. “Sorry … I thought you wouldn’t talk to me if I didn’t have the element of surprise on my side.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong …”

“Are you mad?”

“That you tried to break into my house?”

“That’s … rather  _ unfair _ phrasing …”

Dib chewed his lip. “Yesterday was … really weird,” he said, looking at Zim out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think it would be fair of me to be mad about it, especially considering your motives seem to have been pure. Never mind the fact that you might have genuinely saved my life. You … you cared enough to try and break into my house when nobody else even noticed I was thinking of killing myself. I’ll forgive all the weirdness just for that.” They finally reached the doors to the mall and Dib stopped. “You want down?”

Zim shook his head.

“You’re lucky you’re not very heavy,” Dib said with a smirk, pulling open the door and venturing inside.

Zim leaned over Dib’s shoulder, bracing his elbow against Dib’s chest. “... I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Dib laughed. “Me too. And that’s something I never thought I’d actually say. Suddenly I’ve got a whole lot more to live for.”

Zim rested his head against Dib’s neck and let his arms hang down. “You know, you should sing more often. It sounded nice.”

“I actually play guitar, too, you know. That song I was singing earlier?”

“I actually know that one … ‘ _ Swing Life Away _ ’, right?”

“Fuck, I’m impressed. You actually like Earth music?”

“Well enough,” Zim said, blushing.

“Anyway, I was learning that one. Hoping I could go play at a coffee shop or something. But I didn’t have anyone to practice in front of beforehand and people are …  _ terrifying _ .”

“I could be convinced to listen to you.”

“I’m very lucky to be dating someone so supportive of my musical endeavors,” Dib said with a grin. He stopped in front of the mall directory and Zim finally slid down off his back, dumping the rest of the jelly beans into his mouth and rifling through the bag Dib was holding for something else to eat. 

“You seem better, by the way,” Dib said cautiously.

“I guess. It seems to come and go … but I’m fine for now,” Zim said with a shrug.

“Maybe it’s just anxiety? Our lives have had a bit of a major overhaul in the past 24 hours.”

“I don’t get anxiety,” Zim grumbled, sticking his face into the shopping bag. “ _ Irkens  _ don’t get anxiety.”

As much as Zim had accepted Earth to be his new home, he was still reluctant to let go of his identity as an Irken.

“Alright; my apologies.” Dib handed the bag to Zim and pulled out his phone. “Gaz says you look adorable.”

“Damn straight,” Zim said, ripping open a bag of Skittles.

“Ugh, she also says no Hot Topic. Or FYE.”

“Eh?” Zim mumbled through a mouthful of candy.

“Fuck you, Gaz; that basically leaves me with nothing,” Dib grumbled. “I have an image to uphold, here.”

“And what image would that be?” Zim asked skeptically.

“You wear  _ literally _ the same clothes every day, Zim. You don’t get to question the look I’m going for.”

“I’m serious!” Zim insisted. “You just look  _ sad  _ all the time. That’s not what you’re going for, is it?”

Dib looked crestfallen.

“Oh no … is it??”

“I was going for dark and mysterious …” Dib said, sounding a bit hurt.

“I … er … you have the ‘dark’ part down,” Zim assured him, patting his arm.

Dib sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Probably time for a new look, huh?”

“Lose the coat for good and go for something a little more punk rock and a little less … ‘most likely to blow up the school’,” Zim advised.

“I mean, I probably  _ am _ ,” Dib muttered under his breath.

“Fair. But you probably don’t want to advertise that.”

“Okay, fine. New look it is. What’s even out there that isn’t horrifically preppy?” He searched through the directory. “Target sells clothes, right?”

Zim dumped more Skittles in his mouth and shrugged. Dib took his hand and they made their way over to the other side of the mall. He was rarely in any large store for anything outside of microwave burritos and emergency sugar, but it turned out clothing took up a solid half of Target. He hunted around for some shirts he didn’t hate, first, before diving headlong into the presumably arduous task of trying to find some things Zim would tolerate having put on him. Luckily, Zim’s only specifications seemed to be soft fabrics and bright colors. Bonus points if it was shiny.

He wandered around for a bit touching various clothing items while Dib tagged along, watching with barely concealed amusement. Every time Zim viscerally recoiled from something Dib had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Mm, I want this,” Zim said, rubbing a purple sweater against his face.

“Toss it on the stack,” Dib said, gesturing towards the massive pile he had over his shoulder. Zim put it on top and then immediately turned his attention to the next brightly colored thing.

“What about this?” he asked, holding up a hoodie covered in holographic flippy sequins. He ran his hand up and down it, grinning.

A majority of the things he’d chosen just happened to be from the girl’s section, but Dib was not about to attempt to explain gender norms to an almost two-century old alien who had been on earth for over half a decade. Plus he was moderately certain that if anyone tried to pick on Zim, they would probably get a knee to the groin. If Zim wanted pink sparkly things, he was  _ getting _ pink sparkly things, society be damned.

“I can’t say no to something that makes you smile like that,” Dib conceded and Zim tossed it on the precarious pile as well.

“I think we’re nearing the legal limit for what they’ll allow us to take into the fitting room, so let’s call it good for now and go try on some stuff.”

“Eh? We can just skip straight to buying. I’m paying for all of your fineries, Dib.”

“As much as I’d love to skip this part, Gaz will have my ass if we do, and she’s just started being moderately nice to me so I don’t want to ruin it. ”

“Fine, fine.”

They walked in and Dib dumped all of Zim’s clothes on the bench. “Just make sure we get Gaz a picture of everything you want to buy. So she feels … I dunno. Included in the process, or whatever.” He picked up his own stack of clothes and turned to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Zim asked. “Don’t you have things to try on, too?”

Dib gave him a perplexed look. “I was  _ trying _ to respect your privacy …”

Zim gave him a perplexed look right back. “Is this a weird human modesty thing? We’re dating and I’ve seen your body, Dib.”

“You saw me in a t-shirt and boxers like two hours ago. It’s not quite the same as stripping down to our skivvies in front of each other,” he replied skeptically, but he shut the door nonetheless. “I’ve never even seen you out of your uniform.”

“You’re making this seem weirder than it is,” Zim said, pulling his tunic off. Dib turned, blushing, to face the other direction. 

“Are you sure this isn’t  _ actually _ just weirder than you think it is?” Dib asked, pulling off his shirt. “For fuck’s sake … I’ve never seen your arms, I don’t know how you fit things over your PAK --”

“If you just turned around, you’d know.”

“—I don’t even know if Irkens wear underwear —”

“All sufficiently advanced life forms wear underwear, Dib,” Zim said, suddenly appearing beside him. “Don’t be silly … Wait, did you pierce your navel?  _ That’s  _ weirder than anything I could show you.”

Dib had been trying to keep his eyes up, but failed as soon as Zim started poking him in the stomach. He sighed and looked down to see Zim, wearing purple galaxy leggings and no shirt, examining his belly button piercing.

“I think you’re the first person besides the piercer to actually see that one.”

“What’s the point if no one else is going to see it?” Zim asked, walking back behind him. 

“I don’t know,” said Dib, pulling on a shirt. “I guess it just makes me feel attractive.”

“You  _ are  _ attractive, Dib. What about me?”

“What about you, what?”

“Am  _ I  _ attractive?”

He turned around to see Zim in an oversized pink shirt with an alien on the front.

“The alien is ironic,” said Zim with a grin.

Dib smiled back. “Alright, get over here. Gaz is going to get a kick out of that one. I think we can both get behind you trolling all of humanity. And you’re fucking adorable, for the record.”

All in all, Dib got his entire pile of shirts approved -- including the handful of cheap flannels he’d picked out at Zim’s behest and an extra pair of jeans -- and Zim got his massive stack the stamp of approval as well. This included, much to Dib’s chagrin, a pair of pink camouflage leggings, overalls, rainbow knee high socks, and the hoodie with holographic flippy sequins.

_ Do you  _ want _ us to get our asses kicked? Because that’s going to get our asses kicked,  _ Dib texted Gaz.

_ You can tell him no if you want to, but he looks happy so I wouldn’t,  _ she replied.  _ Besides, he can handle himself. _

Dib had to admit that he highly doubted any form of teasing would be effective against whatever abomination Zim wore to school. He also had to admit that as much as it clashed with his own style, Zim looked adorable in pinks and purples.

On their way up to the register, Dib detoured over to the nail polish.

“You should do something other than black for once,” Zim said, having picked out something predictably purple and glittery for himself. 

“I think I’ll stay boring for now …”

“What about this?” 

Zim shoved a bottle in Dib’s face. It looked black, but as he turned it over in his hand, there was a slight red shimmer.

“You’re like a fucking magpie,” Dib said with a laugh. “No shiny thing can escape you.”

Zim pushed it into his hand. “We’re getting you this. It’ll make you look less gloomy.”

“I thought my proximity to you took care of that. All I have to do is stand within five feet of you, and I’ll be covered in more glitter than a craft shop.”

Other than nearly having a heart attack when he saw the grand total, and a second heart attack when Zim paid for everything with a suspiciously large stack of twenty dollar bills, Dib could safely say that he’d made it out of his first shopping trip in quite a while relatively unscathed. After a brief stop at Hot Topic for a couple more shirts that Gaz didn’t need to know about, and a detour to a froyo place because Zim saw a poster that showcased their rainbow marshmallows, they were finally back at the car.

“Do you mind if we spend the rest of the night at my house?” Dib asked. “Since Gaz doesn’t have it out for me right this moment and the house has food and my bed?”

“Is my couch not good enough for you?” Zim said with mock hurt.

“I know you’re joking, but I also feel the need to point out my mental health requires a proper night’s sleep.”

“Your house it is, then.”

Dib looked over. “You don’t have to stay the night if you don’t want to. If you need a break from me, there’s really no reason I can’t drop you off at home.” 

He was suddenly aware that he called Zim’s base “home” again. Even with Gaz easing up on him, Dib still had to admit that he felt much more comfortable at Zim’s base. His own house was just the building that happened to have his bed and most of his belongings at the moment.

Zim gave him a skeptical look. “I think I’m still supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

Dib shrugged. “I’m doing better.”

“In the  _ depression _ department, sure …”

“You can’t protect me from myself  _ all the time,  _ Zim.”

“That’s … what I’m concerned about, in the grand scheme of things,” Zim said softly. “But if you’re so insistent … Look, do you  _ want _ me to leave?” 

Dib gave him a nervous glance. “Not really, no … I’m enjoying being with you and I don’t really want it to stop.” He reached for Zim’s hand. “You’re the first person I’ve spent more than a couple hours around without wanting to murder. Which, I suppose, is a bit ironic…” 

“Dib, have you ever had a friend?” Zim asked with a curious expression.

“Wow, Zim. Thanks …”

“No, I’m asking this seriously.”

Dib thought for a while, staring out the window. “I guess not. I’ve really been alone for most of my life. I mean, I’ve been  _ around _ people. But it’s always been like … I’m on a frequency they can’t see or something. So I guess it’s a little weird that I’m dating my first close friend.”

“I haven’t had many experiences with friendship, either,” Zim admitted. “Okay,  _ any _ . Ever. I’ve had colleagues and people who had to put up with me and that’s about it.”

“What about Keef?”

Zim shuddered. “I … don’t wanna talk about Keef. I think that only exemplifies why I’ve been without friendship for so much of my life.”

“Well,” Dib said softly, “I’m certainly not just putting up with you.”

“Turns out we work pretty well together, under the right conditions.” Zim gave Dib’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Dib stared out the window, chewing his lip and lost in thought. “Do you think similar people are … universally drawn to each other?” he asked, quietly. “Like there’s some cosmic force pulling people together, no matter how far away they are? Maybe that’s stupid …” He looked over and was surprised to see Zim peering at him with curiosity rather than derision. He continued, feeling a little less ridiculous. “I just say it because … maybe there’s not a single person on earth for me. Maybe every moment since you landed on earth was leading up to this.” He looked away again. “I hope that wasn’t weird … sometimes I forget not everyone is into the same  _ woo-woo _ shit I am.”

Zim smiled and kissed his hand. “I don’t mind the  _ woo _ . I like it. It’s a nice thought.” He had spent so much time lately thinking about his trajectory in life as a series of blunders. Reframing it as the universe conspiring to send him to Earth specifically to love and be loved by Dib made him feel an awful lot better. 

“Will GIR be okay at home by himself?” Dib asked, suddenly concerned.

“Oh, he’s fine. He’ll probably just keep watching the same movie over and over again until we get back. He’s pretty easily amused.”

“Okay, good,” Dib said, relieved. “We’ve got pizza at my house. Is that going to be okay with you? I can pick you up something else if it isn’t.”

“It’s not Bloaty’s, is it?” Zim asked with a cringe. “I’ve adapted to most earth things, but there are enough preservatives in there to make it last until the next ice age and it always makes me sick for a week.”

“Nah, Gaz is on some weird organic, environmental kick now because dad’s off promoting green energy or something like that,” Dib said, waving his hand dismissively. He didn’t pay a ton of attention to what his dad’s latest “thing” was at any given moment. He could just turn on the news and find out if the mood ever struck him. “Anyway, the positive side effect is that the leftovers have gotten better.”

“Good. Because the way to my heart is paved with cheese.”

“And here I thought it was paved with Skittles.”

“It can be paved with many things.”

“Do all Irkens have the metabolism of a 20 year old college student? Are you going to end up getting fat some day unless I stop letting you eat pizza and waffles and candy?”

“Are you saying you won’t love me if I end up getting fat?” Zim asked playfully.

“Nah, it’ll be more of you to love. I just need to know if my days of letting you ride on my back are limited,” Dib replied with a smirk.

Zim gazed at him lovingly and smiled. “Expect to be able to tote me around until our dying days, Dib.” 

In the back of his mind, he made a mental note to do something about the pesky issue of human mortality.

* * *

Zim had predictably herded Dib off to the shower as soon as they arrived home and Dib begrudgingly complied. He supposed the cost of having Zim operating as his auxiliary executive functioning skills could have been higher. He returned back downstairs to find Zim dressed in an old pair of Gaz’s purple pajama bottoms and his new sequined hoodie, which he'd clearly taken a pair of scissors to since his PAK was visible. He was sitting at the kitchen table where Gaz was painting his nails with the glittery purple nail polish he had honed in on earlier. Dib was surprised to see that he’d taken his contact off and was talking animatedly with Gaz sans disguise. It looked like most of the sparkly disaster on his face had been removed as well. 

Dib felt a twinge in his guts when he saw the fading bruises on Zim’s face. Most of it was nearly gone, but it was still an ugly reminder of how poorly controlled his emotions could be. Even so, Zim’s face clearly lit up as soon as he walked into the room, so he could at least be content in the knowledge that he was wholly forgiven.

“Did you make me go shower just so you could bond with Gaz?” he asked with a smirk.

“No, I made you shower so you don’t smell,” Zim said, sticking his tongue out. “I’m going to be sleeping next to you, so I’ve got my own interests to look out for.”

“Better enjoy that while you can,” Gaz said. “You guys know that’ll never fly once dad comes home.”

“We’re assuming he won’t find any issues with my exiled 184-year-old alien boyfriend in the first place,” Dib replied nervously.

“Yeah, I would refrain from bringing any of  _ those _ things up when you talk to him,” Gaz said pointedly, “but other than that, you really should be fine.”

“It’s all true, though,” Zim said with a shrug.

“Sometimes people don’t need the whole truth … especially when that’s a great way for Dib to get himself Baker Acted.”

“Yeah, let’s not,” Dib said hurriedly. “I’ve seen the inside of enough mental health facilities to last a lifetime, and I’m pretty sure Zim counts as a weapon so I won’t be able to bring him along.”

“Just tell dad you’re gay and you’re dating Zim,” Gaz said, exasperated. “It’s seriously not that hard and then you can stop freaking out over it. You shouldn’t even be freaking out about it  _ now.  _ Just enjoy your secret sleepover and chill out.”

“Point taken,” Dib grumbled, resting his arms on Zim’s chair.

He leaned over and ran his hand up and down the sequins on the front of Zim’s hoodie, then drew a little heart.

Zim looked up at him and smiled. “So … You smell better,” he said brightly, then turned to Gaz. “Positive reinforcement, yes?”

“You’re doing  _ stellar _ , Zim,” Gaz said dryly.

“I’d sure hope so, after that checklist you gave me. Hey, how come  _ you  _ never have to shower?” Dib asked, poking him. Zim swatted his hand away. 

“I do, but the base has a full filtration system that I don’t think your human dwelling is equipped with.”

Dib gave him a blank look. “ _ Yeah, _ it is. The whole house is hooked up to a reverse osmosis filter. You don’t think our dad would just let us bathe in the nasty city water, do you?”

Zim’s eyes got wide. “Well, then. This opens up new possibilities …”

“You can tell him about them later, Zim. Sit still,” Gaz said, rolling her eyes.

“Why do you never let her paint your nails, Dib? I bet they’d look better if you did,” Zim told him as Gaz finished up his last finger.

Dib gave Gaz a nervous glance, and he almost blurted out,  _ Because I’m pretty sure she hates me 90% of the time. _

“Stop looking at me like that and get your ass over here,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Zim vacated the seat and as soon as Dib sat down, hopped back up on his lap.

“Ack … Zim … you’re going to be in the way …”

“He’s fine,” Gaz said with a smirk. “Besides, you’re like his emotional support human.”

Dib stuck a hand out on the table and let her get to work removing his poorly applied nail polish. “He’s been like this off and on all day,” Dib said, resting his chin on Zim’s head. 

“Would you two quit talking about me like I’m not here?” Zim asked irritably.

Dib pulled the hat off and kissed the top of his head. Gaz made a gagging noise and rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” he said, putting the hat on his own head and leaning on Zim’s shoulder. “Hey, did you ever remember whatever it was that was bugging you earlier?”

“We were discussing that right before you came down. But no. The reason is still … evasive,” he grumbled, antenna hanging low.

“You two should join me for pizza and movie night,” said Gaz. “It’ll take your mind off it.”

“Isn’t pizza and movie night like … your weekly date with yourself?” Dib asked, skeptically.

Gaz shrugged. “It’s self-care night. And I figure, you need to take better care of yourself and Zim needs a distraction.”

Dib watched her for a moment as she rubbed a cotton ball against the multiple layers of cheap nail polish on his fingers. “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked quietly. 

“Are you seriously complaining right now?”

“It’s just a complete 180 from how you normally treat me. And Zim, come to think of it. Usually you can’t stand either of us.”

He watched Gaz carefully and she avoided his stare, focusing intently on opening the bottle of nailpolish. Zim shifted nervously in his lap and look between the two of them.

“I didn’t try to kill myself because of you, you know,” Dib said, his voice low. “I know Zim told you what happened and why I disappeared last night.”

Gaz sighed but continued to keep her eyes averted. “I had no idea you were feeling that low. Zim  _ did _ . By all accounts, you two were more enemies than friends, and yet he’s paying enough attention to how badly you were doing that he tries to break into the damn house to check on you. I was right downstairs while you were bleeding away on the floor and I  _ never even knew it.” _

“It’s not your fault,” Dib insisted softly. He was thoroughly confused over how to deal with this sudden emotional outburst.

“That’s  _ not  _ what I’d be telling myself if you were dead right now.”

“I … geez, look. I’ve been depressed for years, Gaz. I’m sure it just became background noise and that’s not your fault. It’s just how brains work. Zim only noticed because he’s obsessed with me,” Dib said with a smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Guilty as charged,” Zim chirped.

“I just don’t want to be one more reason you hate living here, alright?” Gaz said, finally looking up at Dib. “You’re fun to mess with but if it’s making you miserable, I’ll back off. You’ll be leaving for college soon and I don’t want things to end up irreparable.” She glanced at Zim. “Plus, it turns out you two aren’t the absolute  _ worst _ people to spend a Saturday night with. Zim is pretty chill when he’s not bent on world domination.”

“High praise,” Dib said with a cautious smile. 

“I could get used to having him around, so you two better actually try and make this last. If either of you breaks the other’s heart, I’m going to have to do some ass kicking.”

Zim looked up at Dib, who kissed him between the eyes before giving him his hat back.

“So far, no one has died and Zim hasn’t gotten tired of me yet. So I’ve got hope for us yet. Dare I ask what the movie is?”

“ _ IT Chapter 1 _ .”

“Wasn’t last week  _ Scream _ ? Is it always horror movies?”

“Sometimes self care is watching a movie where everyone has it worse than you,” Gaz said with a shrug.

“Can’t really argue with that logic.”

Zim looked up with a quizzical expression. “Aren’t you afraid of clowns, Dib?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but Pennywise isn’t a clown, he’s an eldritch horror,” Dib pointed out. “There’s a difference.”

“So you’re not afraid of ghosts or monsters or aliens but you  _ are _ afraid of clowns?” Zim asked with a bewildered expression. He turned to Gaz. “Are all humans this illogical or is it just mine?”

“You certainly got a special one,” she replied, shaking her head.

“I’m one of a kind,” Dib said, leaning over Zim’s shoulder. “You should feel lucky.”

“Alright, give me your other hand and don’t touch anything with that one for a couple minutes.”

Dib looked at his hand, noting that the paint job definitely looked better than normal. The red shimmer caught the light and Dib thought it actually looked rather classy. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at Gaz.. 

“Hey … are we … having an actual  _ family moment, _ here?”

“Don’t make it weird, Dib,” Gaz warned without looking up. “Besides, I’m not sure Zim wants to be family. We’re not exactly a super well-adjusted bunch over here.”

“Have you  _ met _ Zim?” Dib asked. “If anything I think that just makes him qualify more.”

Zim turned around just to stick his tongue out.

“Fair point — Zim, you’re honorary family now,” Gaz said as she re-capped the bottle of nail polish. “Just don’t do anything to make me rescind that.”

Zim cast Dib a worried look. 

Gaz pointed at Dib’s nails. “Let those dry. I’m going to grab the pizza and then we can get this show on the road.”

She got up and Dib rested his head on Zim’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what I did to your face …” he murmured.

“Eh, it’s fine. If anyone mentions it, I’ll just tell them I fought off a chupacabra with you or something.”

“That sentence contains so many reasons why I don’t deserve you,” Dib said with a smile.

Gaz returned with pizza and herded the two of them into the living room. Dib realized that he and Gaz had never willingly sat down and watched something together up until this point. Gaz might have waited out Mysterious Mysteries so she could steal the remote, but the two of them had never mutually decided on something they’d actually both enjoy.

“Hey … thank you for being nice about things,” Dib said as Gaz handed him a giant slice of pizza. “It’s almost weird to be at home and have things not suck.”

Zim settled in comfortably close next to Dib and leaned against him. Gaz looked at the two of them and then gave Dib a look he couldn’t quite read. “Well … it’s almost weird to see the two of you this happy. I’d hate to derail it.” 

“That, and Zim is your new best friend, right?” Dib replied with a grin. 

“Oh absolutely. If you’d brought home anyone else there’s no way I’d approve.”

They tossed on the movie and between the cheese and the blankets, Zim ended up zonking out not fifteen minutes in. He had curled up with his head in Dib’s lap, feet over the arm of the couch and Dib’s hand in his. Dib was happy to at least have someone to hold on to every time the movie made him jump. Gaz’s banter throughout made everything less terrifying than it likely would have been alone. He was surprised to find that, when his sister’s wit was pointed elsewhere, she was shockingly funny. By the time the credits rolled, the two of them were talking animatedly while Zim snored in Dib’s lap. 

“If I hadn’t read the book, most of that subtext would have gone straight over my head,” Dib said

“It’s not easy to spell out ‘I’m a creature older than time itself locked in battle with a being that appears as a giant turtle’ without completely breaking the mood,” Gaz pointed out.

“It is if you’re not a coward,” Dib replied with a grin. In his lap Zim stirred slightly, then settled back in. Dib was quiet until he was still and snoring again. 

He looked up to see Gaz looking the two of them over, a small smile on her face. “You genuinely love him, huh?”

Dib blushed. “Yeah … I’m probably more shocked than you are.”

“How long were you waiting for this?” she asked with a curious look. “No offense, but you’ve been pretty clearly pining for him for a while. I mean, I noticed, at least. You know how aloof everyone else can be.”

Dib ran his fingers through his hair. “You remember last year? When Mr. Gilbert decided that putting us together for chemistry would be a good idea?”

“And literally no one else did? Yeah. He clearly thought he was going to fix you two.”

“And I thought that was bullshit. But maybe he had the right idea. Once we started actually working together on things and spending time together outside of class? I guess I fell for him pretty hard. Even though we were still fighting pretty regularly.” He looked down at the tiny Irken curled up and snoring in his lap. “It sounds like neither of us really knew what we wanted at that point.”

Gaz was thoughtful a moment, staring off at nothing. “What’s the deal with that mission he was always on about? I’m guessing this means he’s given it up for good.”

“How much did he tell you?”

“About that? Very little. Just that his leaders have forgotten about him and he’s fine with that.”

Din chewed his lip, watching to make sure Zim was really asleep. “I guess he was kind of a disaster back on Irk. He got sent here under the pretense of a mission but it was really just the easiest way to exile him. And then, somewhere along the line, his leaders decided that wasn’t enough because … they tried to kill him a few years back,” Dib said softly.

“What??” Gaz blurted, loud enough that Zim seemed to wake up for a moment before rolling over and pressing his face into Dib’s shirt.

“This is going to be a bitch and a half to explain,” Dib said, pushing his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. “How much do you know about Irken biology?”

“Probably a whole lot less than you,” Gaz said with a smirk.

Dib looked like he was about to counter that, then thought better of it. “There is …  _ no good way _ to answer that. Touché.”

“Really, though. I’ve spent the last few years ignoring the two of you as much as possible.” She made a face. “Aaand now I’m trying to make up for that. So start me at the beginning.”

“Irkens are … geez, I guess they’re essentially cyborgs,” Dib said as the full extent of the weirdness washed over him. “Basically their brain is their PAK, so they are whatever data gets uploaded into it, personality and all. Zim was just … given bad data. He’s … buggy.”

“That sure explains an awful lot,” Gaz said quietly. “But that really carries a death sentence?”

“Sounds like it was more because he accidentally killed two of his former leaders and generally caused nonstop chaos.”

“Okay,  _ that  _ shocks me a little less.”

“They held a trial, he got declared Defective but apparently … they can’t wipe his PAK. So he got sent back here. I don’t know much else because he’s still pretty fucked up about … well, all of it. So I don’t really want to bring it up.”

Dib stared down in a sort of horrified wonder as his he spoke. It was strange to think that he loved this soft, warm little alien and meanwhile, Zim’s entire personality and memories and  _ being _ were housed in the metal beetle shell on his back. 

“Does the whole ‘cyborg’ thing freak you out?” Gaz asked quietly. 

“Huh? I hunt monsters in my spare time. What are cybernetics to Bigfoot?”

“Yeah, but you’re not in love with Bigfoot.”

Dib tried to find the words. “It’s weird,” he admitted finally. “Irkens literally can’t survive more than 10 minutes without their PAKs but I still sometimes wonder who he’d be without it. It weirds me out whenever I realize that I’m talking to a hyper-advanced AI that’s speaking to me through a biological life form.” Dib shook his head like he was trying to shake away the thought. “Anyway. Seems like he hasn’t been in contact with his leaders for a while now. Which makes sense. His mission has mostly been annoying me for the past couple months.”

“He cares about you. Watching the way messed with you these past few weeks, it’s clear that he just didn’t understand what to do for you.” Gaz suddenly looked a bit defeated. “Can you blame him? I didn’t either.”

Dib looked over curiously. 

“I feel really bad about making you sick earlier today,” she whispered, looking at the floor. “Sometimes your episodes are scary and I don’t know what to do to help you.” She looked up, eyes pleading for the first time Dib could remember. “If you could just try some different meds …”

“I’ve tried almost everything, though,” he said, looking frazzled. “I really did my best to try and power through the side effects. Just … Look. If you can accept that you’re just allergic to all antibiotics, I don’t know why it’s such a leap to understand that psych meds do not agree with me.”

Gaz raised her eyebrows. “You know what? That’s fair.” She sighed and gave Dib a searching look. “So what are you going to do?”

“Have Zim help me stay on top of self care and … maybe let him see if he can’t come up with a solution,” Dib said, bracing himself for her reaction. 

“You’re going to let him tinker with your brain?” she asked flatly. “Really?  _ Zim _ ? With control over what goes on in your head?”

“I … I guess? Look. I’m desperate and … you realize he’s actually very smart, right?”

“Of course. It’s just that he’s always been a bit of a delusional spaz with impulse control issues on top of being a genius.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Dib said, deflating a bit.

“You seem like you’re on a bit more of an even keel now, though. Both of you.”

Dib smiled. “He’s really good for me, Gaz. Having someone around to take care of me … didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

In his lap, Zim suddenly stretched and yawned.

“It’s over already? What a short movie …” he mumbled.

“You slept through the whole thing, you silly bug.”

“I don’t  _ sleep _ ,” Zim argued, opening one eye to give him a pointed look. “I nap.”

“Oh, well then, my apologies,” Dib said with a smirk. He turned to Gaz. “I was going to play some guitar upstairs for a bit — you’re not going to bed any time soon, are you?”

“Nah, all my Splatoon friends are online about now. I’m not sleeping for a while.” 

“Awesome. And …” he trailed off, looking at the floor. “This was fun. I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to do it again.”

“I think I can be convinced to tolerate it on a weekly basis.” 

Dib scooped up Zim and stood up. 

“Hey!! What do you think you’re doing??” Zim said, squirming. Dib struggled not to drop him. “No carrying!”

Dib dumped him back on the couch unceremoniously. “You rode on my back for like ten minutes earlier today!”

“Riding and being carried are  _ not the same _ , Dib,” Zim replied, getting to his feet. 

“He’s got a point,” Gaz said with a stifled laugh. 

“Alright, fine. In that case, you’re taking the plates back to the kitchen.”

Once they’d finished tidying the living room, they went back upstairs. Dib cleared off some space on the floor and grabbed his guitar.

“Does Irk have musical instruments?” Dib asked as he tuned the strings. 

Zim shook his head. “We mostly just … outsource our music making.”

Dib gave him a strange look. “So you steal it from the people you conquer, then.”

Zim looked a bit hurt. “Well  _ I don’t.  _ It’s not really fair to blame me for everything they do. If anything, I'm responsible for  _ preventing them _ from conquering more planets.”

“I know. Sorry … that was insensitive of me.”

Dib nervously picked at the strings, feeling stupid. It was strange, knowing that Zim came from a colonizer race that brutally overtook whatever planets were in their path and then trying to reconcile that with Zim, who clearly had a soft spot for earth and was willingly giving up conquering the planet. For  _ love _ , no less. 

Dib’s fingers finally settled on a melody and he started in on  _ Boulevard of Broken Dreams,  _ if for no other reason than to prove to Zim he could sing it. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the rhythm and the lyrics and the feeling of the steel strings against his calloused fingers. He could feel Zim’s attention turn to him but strangely, it didn’t make him feel nervous or judged.

He finished the song and finally looked up. Zim was staring at him, eyes bright. 

“Your voice is … it’s good,” Zim said with a smile. “Do something else I know.”

“Well, which ones do you know?” Dib asked, leaning on the guitar.

“Hmm …  _ Time of Your Life _ ?”

“The one also known as  _ Good Riddance?  _ Isn’t that a breakup song?”

“Oh, fine then.  _ Dark Blue _ ?”

“Points for  _ Jack’s Mannequin.  _ I’m intrigued now … what else?”

“Er …  _ Welcome to the Black Parade _ ?”

“A classic. Of course.”

“ _ Everything’s Magic _ ?”

“Angels&Airwaves … Tom DeLonge’s less-successful side project, but still one of my favorites. Damn,” he said with a grin. “It’s almost eerie how many of my favorite songs you know.”

Zim’s eyes went wide and he looked away.

“I was  _ kidding _ ,” Dib said with a suspicious look.

“I … have to tell you something,” Zim mumbled. “But you have to promise not to be mad!”

“Last time you said that, you told me your mission here was a joke…”

“It’s not as bad as that! It’s …” Zim looked nervous for a second and then used one of his PAK legs to drop a small, silver object into Dib’s lap. It almost looked like … 

“Wait. Is that the iPod I lost?” Dib asked, shocked. He turned it over in his hands. It had seen better days by the time he’d bought it second-hand, and it looked no worse for having been missing for so long.

Zim nodded, looking away and fidgeting.

Dib gave him a bewildered look. “Why did you have my iPod, Zim?”

Zim drew nervous spirals in the carpet. “You dropped it and I was going to give it back when we stopped fighting about …  _ whatever _ it was we were fighting about. Then I figured I’d listen through some of the songs on it so we’d maybe have something to talk about … and then I just enjoyed having something that was  _ yours _ , I guess. Not in a mean way. In a … well, I thought it was a friendly way.”

“You stole --”

“ _ Borrowed _ ,” Zim corrected, and Dib gave him a look.

“You  _ borrowed _ it so you could talk to me about music?”

Zim looked frazzled. “Yes, Dib. I thought it might be better to talk about  _ My Chemical Romance _ than chemistry homework. I was trying my best.”

Dib scrolled through the artists and noticed a few he didn’t recall adding. “Why is there  _ Kesha _ and  _ Charlie XCX _ and  _ Alanis Morissette _ on here?”

Zim gave him a withering look. “Do you hate fun, Dib? Because you’re sounding like you hate fun. Also Alanis gets me, so please back off.”

Dib suddenly looked up and gave Zim a look that made him feel like he was under a microscope. “You know … I lost this thing like a year ago …”

Zim held up his hands. “I know … I know … I wasn’t planning on keeping it for this long.”

“No, not that. I’m just wondering … how long did you like me for??”

“Seeing as I only came to terms with how I felt about you  _ yesterday _ , I feel like I’m not the right person to answer that question. Put my introspection down as a work in progress.”

Dib shook his head incredulously, but he was smiling. 

“Alanis gets you, huh?” he asked, playing the intro chords to  _ Head Over Feet  _ and giving Zim an expectant look. 

Zim raised his eyebrows. “If you’re trying to make me sing … that’s not going to happen. Not in a million fucking years.”

“I know you know the words,” Dib said, before diving into the song so animatedly that Zim almost felt more awkward  _ not  _ joining in.

“I can’t carry a tune, Dib!” Zim shouted over him, flustered.

“ _ And don’t be surprised if I love you for all that you are; I couldn’t help it, it’s all your fault _ ,” Dib sang, giving Zim a huge grin. Zim rolled his eyes in response but started mumbling along with his arms folded over his chest, determined not to enjoy it.

“Can’t hear you!” Dib interjected. 

“Ugh! Fine!” Zim grumbled and sang louder, giving the wall a death glare. 

There was only so much grouchiness he could throw against Dib’s new irritatingly sunny demeanor, though, before he was genuinely singing along. By the time they’d finished, Zim had an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I’d say you can carry a tune,” Dib said as Zim blushed.

“That was coercion and I  _ do not appreciate it _ ,” he mumbled.

“Pfft … lies and slander. You can’t convince me you weren’t having fun.”

Dib set the guitar aside and pulled Zim into his lap, hugging him tightly. “You know … It’s been interesting, reframing all the weird shit you’ve done over the past year or so ” he said softly as Zim relaxed against him. “It might sound strange, but thank you for putting in the effort.”

“Sorry for starting fights with you in between my attempts to put in an effort,” Zim mumbled.

“I think we’re both still learning how to be people,” Dib replied. “We’ve both been on our own for so long. And I know I have an awful lot of trauma. Sounds like you’ve still got an awful lot of trauma. But we’re getting there one step at a time.”

“Not bad for the past 24 hours,” Zim said as he snuggled against Dib, breathing slow and even. He ran his hand up Dib’s neck and into his hair, running it through his fingers. “Why does this feel so good?” he asked softly. “I feel like … I  _ need _ to be in contact with you and when I  _ am _ …” He trailed off. “I don’t know how I lived so long without this.”

“You’re touch-starved,” Dib replied, as if it were obvious.

“I’m … excuse me?” Zim said quizzically.

“It’s … I dunno. I always thought it was kind of bullshit because like … who needs people?” Dib rambled. “But it’s this idea that you need physical contact with another person and if you don’t get it … it’s bad for your emotional health. Or something.”

“Sounds  _ human _ ,” Zim said flippantly. “Irkens aren’t like that.”

“Oh, really?” Dib ran his fingers over both of Zim’s antennae and watched as his eyes closed and his body trembled. “So you’re telling me this doesn’t feel amazing?”

“Unf … Dib, that’s not fair!!”

“I guess if you don’t  _ need it … _ ” He pulled his hands away and looked down. Zim was glaring up at him, still shaking. He mumbled something under his breath, then turned and put his arms around Dib’s neck.

“Fine. I need it, okay?” he muttered. “I like it and I … I need you. Even if it makes me … bad at being Irken.”

“Why do you care how you compare to the rest of them?” Dib asked gently. “They … kinda suck, Zim. You’re allowed to need me and … need to be touched by me.”

He ran his fingers under the hem of Zim’s hoodie and against the small of his back. He slid his hands upwards and Zim pressed against him, making soft noises under his breath.

“Take off your shirt …” Zim whispered.

“Hmm? Why?”

Zim was already leaning back to pull his off. “Just do it and lie back.”

Dib did as he was asked and laid back, Zim lying down on top of him. Their stomachs pressed together and Zim softly kissed Dib’s neck. Dib slid his fingers over Zim’s skin, up to his neck from his back. He ran Zim’s antennae through his fingers and listened to the soft purr rumbling in Zim’s throat as their lips pressed together. Zim’s fingers were combing through Dib’s hair as he gently bit at Dib’s bottom lip and tugged. The soft, desperate noise Dib made in response urged Zim onwards, and he gently opened his mouth against Dib’s, sliding his tongue inside. He heard Dib’s breathing grow more rapid, felt his human’s hands shaking as they caressed him.

Dib kissed him desperately and Zim slid his tongue down Dib’s throat. Dib’s hands momentarily pulled away, but as he relaxed into Zim’s kiss, his hands came to rest on Zim’s waist. He gently ran his thumbs under the elastic of Zim’s pajama bottoms, lingering for a moment, before sliding them back up. Zim finally slid his tongue back out and Dib lay back, breathing heavily. 

“Am I ever going to stop needing you like this?” Zim whispered.

Dib took his hand and pressed it to his lips. “I hope not. I hope you always need me.”

He stifled a sudden yawn that completely broke the mood. “Fuck, sorry. What time is it?”

Zim looked over at the alarm clock next to Dib’s bed. “A little after eleven.”

“Are you going to be bored if I went to bed now?” Dib asked, holding Zim to his chest as he sat up. “I feel bad …”

“Dib, I biologically need less sleep than you. I told you, I’ll never be upset at you for being human,” he said with a soft kiss on Dib’s chin. 

Dib got to his feet and tucked his guitar away. “Want me to grab you a book or something?”

Zim shook his head. “I’ll lay down with you for a bit.” He tossed Dib’s shirt to him before pulling his hoodie back on.

Dib climbed into bed, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp and then holding the covers up so Zim could cuddle up in front of him.

“You know,” Dib said with a smile, pulling the blankets around the both of them, “maybe we should just let my dad think we’re friends now so we can have officially sanctioned sleepovers when he gets back.”

“Gaz said you’d just about die of an anxiety attack if we didn’t tell him as soon as possible,” Zim said skeptically.

“He’s barely here … I can put it off until I go to college,” Dib replied. 

“Can you, really?”

Dib pulled a frustrated face that Zim couldn’t see. “... Ugh, no. Gaz is right. I’m bad at lying and I’d probably live in a constant state of anxiety, worried he’d find out somehow.”

“You know all you have to do is keep the window open for me, right? No one else ever has to even know.”

“True.”

“Just another perk of dating me.”

Dib smiled and put an arm around him, feeling happier than he had in a while. Unlike the intense, racing high of mania, this was a deeper happiness that he felt he could anchor himself to. Even this soon into things, Zim felt like home to him. Touching him was at once overwhelming and satisfying, fulfilling some innate need Dib wasn’t even aware he had. 

“One of many,” he said softly, kissing Zim’s neck and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know who needs who more at this point.


	11. I’ll Show You Mine if You Show Me Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter a while back to test the waters on NSFW content. It's gone through some slight revisions between then and now.
> 
> It's 50% emotional intimacy and 50% smut. And so the reason for the Explicit rating becomes all too clear.
> 
> (This chapter is not heavily plot-relevant, so if smut is not your thing, please feel free to skip this one! On the other hand ... if you like alien genitalia and Dib going down on Zim, then this is for you!)  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could play "Spot the difference" between this and the version I posted early, but where's the fun in that?

_ This night's a perfect shade of  
Dark blue, dark blue  
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room?  
When I'm here with you _

\- Jack’s Mannequin, _ Dark Blue _

* * *

“I want to try something,” Dib said suddenly, pulling Zim close. 

“Eh?” Zim said, perking an antenna.

“Ack, no, keep those still a moment, you silly bug,” Dib said as he kissed the top of Zim’s head, making his way over to one of them. He kissed the base and then gently ran his tongue along it to the end. In front of him, he felt Zim shiver. Dib stopped and propped himself up on one arm, looking down at Zim with concern. “Is that okay? I can stop …”

Zim shook his head. “No, please keep going … That was a pleasant shiver …” 

“Sorry, I just wanted to check …”

Zim reached back and patted his shoulder appreciatively. “That is what makes you boyfriend material.”

Dib snuggled up behind Zim again, this time running his parted lips down the length of Zim’s antenna. He gently took the end of it in his mouth, sliding his tongue around it, and sucked on it as he slid his hand up Zim’s shirt, placing it on his chest. Zim pressed back against him, shifting slightly. It was easy for Dib to lose himself in the near sensory-overload that was all the soft little noises Zim made, every tiny movement in response to his own, the warmth of their bodies pressing together. 

Suddenly, Zim placed a hand on Dib’s hi.

Dib stopped and pulled back. “Mm?” he mumbled, eyes still closed. His mind almost immediately wandered back to the way their legs had tangled together.

Zim rolled over to face him. “Dib? Do you … want to have sex with me?”

Dibs eyes shot open. “Um, like _ right now?” _ he asked, panicked. He was hoping he had at least a couple weeks to acclimate to the idea before jumping all the way in.

“I meant in general …”

Dib stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, perplexed and a little terrified.

“I just mean …” Zim fixed him with a slightly self-conscious look, his antennae dropping downwards. “... You were kind of poking me in the back …”

Dib swore and quickly grabbed a pillow to stuff between them. Zim watched him curiously, a little surprised by the reaction. 

“I’m really sorry … holy shit …” Dib’s face burned and he fought the urge to dart from the room. There were precious few practical options for saving face. “I guess just the sounds you were making and the … well … _ everything _ about you …” he trailed off, at a loss for words. He couldn’t meet Zim’s gaze so he hid his face in the pillow. Almost immediately, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I mean … we can do it, if you want,” Zim offered.

Dib poked his head up, eyes narrowed. “You realize that this is an involuntary reaction, right?”

“Yes, I just thought --”

“Zim, that’s just moving a little fast,” Dib interjected, cutting him off. “We’ve been dating for two days. You told me you loved me _ yesterday _ . It’s _ a lot _.”

“I don’t understand _ why _ that’s a lot.”

“Just … everyone says not to move that fast, okay?”

“Why do you care what other people say? No one else is going to know about this, anyway.”

“It’s just a bad idea!” Dib said, getting increasingly frustrated with what he saw as moderately inane questions. 

“But _ why _?” Zim looked utterly bewildered. Were there strict timeframes on various human dating milestones? No one had informed Zim about this.

“_ Because, Zim, _ I’m already absolutely infatuated with you and it’s going to get a million times worse as soon as I make myself as vulnerable as I possibly can be and … and _ surrender _ myself to you.” He was quiet for a second before quietly continuing, still muffled. “What if you break up with me? What am I going to do then?”

“Dib, I would _ never— _”

“You don’t _ know _that.”

“I _ do _, though …”

“How???” Dib looked up, frustration creasing his brow. “How can you be so sure? How can you _ know _ you love me and you want to be with me forever _ right now _?”

“Yelling …” Zim cautioned him.

Dib made a frustrated noise into the pillow.

“Is this turning into a fight?” Zim asked worriedly. “Do you need me to leave for a bit?”

Dib was silent for a few beats before giving a grumpy, “No…” and finally looking back up. 

Zim reached over and gently swept Dib’s hair out of his eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do, Dib? Find another human?” He made a face. “Find another _ Irken _ capable of love?”

“Find some other alien to love?” Dib said moodily.

“Ew, no.” 

“Be alone forever?”

“After feeling what I do whenever we touch? I wouldn’t go that route willingly.” Zim lovingly caressed his cheek and Dib felt himself getting sucked into those twin berry-colored pools. “I’ve been to so many places and I’ve just … never met someone so much like me. Who understands me. When I touch you, I feel like I’m home, wherever I am. I just … I just _ know _. I want you forever, Dib.”

“... Alright…” Dib muttered, turning red and looking away. 

Zim’s antennae dropped. “Do you … not feel the same?”

“No, that’s the thing. I _ do _ … _ exactly _the same. I’m just … ugh. Putting my heart in someone else’s hands is terrifying.”

Zim gave him a loving look as he reached over and began playing with his hair. “I promise not to hurt your heart, Dib.”

Dib stayed quiet for a while, trying to clear his head by focusing on the feeling of Zim’s fingers combing lazily through his hair. He had a lot of nebulous feelings swirling in his guts, and no available words to express them.

“Do you believe me?” Zim finally asked, his voice a soft whisper.

“I want to. Believe me, I really want to,” Dib said, a note of sadness in his voice. “It’s … hard for me to trust people. I’m sure you can relate.”

Zim nodded. “Which is why I hope you can understand that I won’t hurt you. I know what it feels like. And … I love you, so I don’t want you to go through that.”

“Yeah …”

“But I also know I shouldn’t rush you. Besides, we’ve got time.”

“Okay,” Dib whispered with a melancholy smile.

Zim smiled back and was silent for all of five blissful seconds.

“... So do you want—”

“God dammit, Zim, _ please _! I really don’t know,” Dib whined. “Just let me think a minute.”

“Alright, alright …”

“I feel like you’re trying to do a relationship speedrun and it’s disorienting.”

“Eh? No … It’s just about being close to you.”

“I’ve never let anyone get that close …”

Zim shrugged. “Neither have I.”

Dib used several very colorful swears under his breath. “Okay, look. One of the complicating factors here is I don’t even know what you have between your legs,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to stay modest about it, but if I’m being honest I am _ really _ curious how we’d even do this.”

“Oh, is _ that _why you were acting so weird earlier?” Zim seemed suddenly amused. 

“That and I didn’t feel like walking around with my dick hard for the rest of the shopping trip just because I looked at you without a shirt.” He put his face back into the pillow and whined. “I just find you really attractive and I feel like I’m the only one having this problem!”

“I assure you, you are not the only one having this problem,” Zim replied, trying to maintain his patience. “Dib … If you want to know what equipment I’m working with, that’s easy enough to arrange.”

Dib huffed, but eventually popped his head up again, biting his lip. “Is this going to turn into an ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ situation?”

“If you want it to?”

Dib rubbed the bridge of his nose before finally looking up. “Alright. Fine. But what happens if we end up having sex? I already want to spend every waking moment with you. I’m warning you … it’s going to get worse. What if you get sick of me?”

“I think you’re worrying too much,” Zim said, already pulling his hoodie off.

Dib went red but managed to fight the urge to hide again. “_ Oh my god _ are we really going to do this?”

“Dib, if you want me to stand naked in front of you and give you an Irken anatomy lesson, I will do that,” Zim said, completely serious. “If you want to have sex, you have my consent. I’m not going to push you either way, but you’re acting like this is an ongoing problem and I’m _ trying _ to be helpful about it.”

Dib paused, thinking things over, then started taking off his clothes. “Look, I don’t know what I want … but I at least feel like either both of us should be naked or neither of us should.” He got his pants off and groaned. “Well, I guess embarrassment is a solid turn-off. Can we like … at least kiss or something? I’m too nervous and —”

He turned to Zim, who was sitting, open-legged and naked, across from him. His brain tried to register what, exactly, he was seeing, and promptly bluescreened in confusion.

“_ Oh my god. _”

“What?”

“You don’t have a dick,” Dib said with quiet horror.

Zim rolled his eyes. “Should I say the same about _ you _?”

“What?” Dib was still in the process of questioning everything he knew.

“Dib, would you just get over here already and kiss me or something so I can show you properly and you can stop feeling inadequate?”

Dib nodded, eyes still wide. He sat in front of Zim, breathing quick and nervous, not quite sure what to do.

Zim leaned in close and stroked his cheek. “It’s okay, Dib. If you need anything to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay…” Dib whispered, confusion and desperation rolling off his body in waves. Zim’s face was so close that all he could see were sparkling pomegranate eyes staring into his. Zim’s lips gently brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

Dib just closed his eyes and nodded. Zim put one hand on Dib’s back and the other on his neck, before leaning him backwards into the bed and kissing him. Dib ran his fingers up Zim’s back, marveling for the millionth time in the past 24 hours at how soft and velvety Irken skin was. He gently ran his fingers over Zim’s antenna and listened to Zim’s muffled purrs against his mouth.

Dib pulled back a little, eyes wide, as a sudden realization hit him. “Fuck … that’s a turn on for you, isn’t it?” he said, accusation sneaking into his tone. 

“I guess …” Zim murmured, blushing and averting his eyes. 

“Oh my god … why didn’t you tell me??” Dib was starting to panic again, thinking of all the times he’d inadvertently been the source of sexual frustration.

“Because it felt nice and I was enjoying it? Kissing has clearly been a turn on for you but _ you _ didn’t try and stop it.”

Dib looked away. “... I guess we’ve both been making each other sexually frustrated …”

“Seems a bit late to worry about it now, hm?”

Zim put a hand on Dib’s cheek and kissed up the side of his neck, down his jawline, and finally over to his mouth. He went deliberately slow, placing a few lingering kisses on Dib’s lips before gently grazing them with his tongue. He heard Dib’s breathing become faster and smiled. He kissed a little harder, pulling back when Dib’s movements became more desperate. He gently bit Dib’s bottom lip and listened to him whimper, feeling him press his body desperately upwards. He let go and gave the corner of Dib’s mouth a quick peck before finally pressing in for another full-mouthed kiss and parting Dib’s lips with his tongue. Dib moaned, running his hands along Zim’s body and arching his back in response. 

With Zim’s hips pressed against him, Dib started to feel something moving.

“I could show you now but … do I have permission to get you off?” Zim asked softly, next to his ear. “I’m more than happy to just stop things where they are now but I thought that I might be able to help you out a bit …”

“You realize I’m not going to last very long, right?” Dib asked, turning red.

“Why would that matter? The goal is just to get you off …”

“It’s just embarrassing, you know? Not having any stamina …”

Zim pulled back and looked at Dib with utter confusion. “Why is being _ that _ in love with me an indication of anything you should be ashamed of?”

“Huh?” Dib finally opened his eyes and gave Zim a bewildered look right back.

“That’s the reason you wouldn’t last long, right? Because you love me and you’re very attracted to me?”

Dib felt a little chastised. “I mean, yeah. I suppose.”

“Then I consider it a compliment.” He leaned down and tickled Dib’s ear with his breath. “And I love you too, silly human. Now, are you going to let me help you out or not?”

Dib nodded, finally giving in to his desires. “Alright, fine … I mean, _ please _ … but only if you really want to ...”

“I really do,” Zim assured him. “Now, just let me lead and don’t fight back.”

Dib was midway through a bewildered, “Huh?” when Zim’s lips covered his.

He was more than a little surprised when Zim resumed kissing him and, despite feeling Zim’s hands on his chest and face, something wrapped tightly around his cock. Dib would have liked to ask just what the hell was happening, but Zim was kissing him too deeply for him to get any words out. He made a little “Umph!!” of surprise when Zim pressed even deeper and practically shoved his tongue down Dib’s throat. Zim kissed him with unrestrained passion and started rolling his hips frantically. 

Dib was still utterly bewildered about what was going on, but he finally relaxed under Zim’s touch and decided that, _ whatever _ was going on, he had to admit it felt amazing. He surrendered and let it happen. He put one hand behind Zim’s head and the other at the small of his back, then bucked his hips up against Zim’s, making high, desperate noises against Zim’s mouth. Zim replied by pressing down and grinding against him that much harder.

Dib could feel the pressure building between his legs, and he squeaked out a warning that was muffled by Zim’s tongue in his mouth. He put a hand on Zim’s chest but Zim just reached up and interlocked their fingers before pinning Dib’s hand next to his head, pressing into the mattress. Dib’s breathing grew faster and he tried again to push Zim back, but Zim just took that hand and pinned it as well.

Zim finally pulled his mouth away and Dib choked out a hasty, “Zim, I’m going to —!”

“_ That’s the point, Dib _,” Zim said in his ear, his voice low. “Now stop fighting me and just let it happen.” And with that, Zim was right back to kissing him and frantically jerking his cock off. All Dib could do was desperately thrust his hips up to meet Zim’s as he let out a muffled cry of pleasure, his cock exploding between them. He kept his back arched, waiting for the waves of ecstasy to pass, before finally collapsing back onto the blankets, empty and satisfied. Zim finally slid his tongue out of Dib’s mouth, gently kissing him on the lips one last time before pulling back completely. Dib barely even responded as he lay still, completely blissed out and breathing hard, eyes closed. 

“If you insist on doing that again, we might need a safe word,” Dib mumbled.

“Sorry … I just wanted you to sit back and enjoy it without breaking the mood.” Zim put a hand on Dib’s heart and felt as its beats began to slow.

“Sorry I got us both kinda nasty …” Dib said with a creeping blush.

Zim snuggled against his chest and kissed under his chin. “It’s fine. I kind of expected it.”

Dib just nodded, eyes still closed.

“Was it good?” Zim asked softly. 

“That … was definitely _ not _ how humans have sex … but I don’t care … because it felt _ amazing _,” he said breathlessly, lightly running his fingers over Zim’s warm body.

Zim gently stroked Dib’s hair for a moment before shaking his head. “I almost forgot the reason we were doing this …”

Dib nodded, finally opening his eyes. “Same … Alright. Show me. Before the suspense ends up killing me.”

Zim pushed himself into a sitting position, then moved up to sit on Dib’s stomach and rocked backwards, leaning back on his hands, so Dib could get a proper look.

Dib tried to make sense of the arrangement in front of him. The tentacle-like appendage was clearly a phallus, but below it … 

Dib cocked his head to the side in confusion and looked up. He recalled how differently Tak had looked compared to Zim, and how he had assumed that Irkens were sexually dimorphic. What he was currently looking at suggested otherwise. “Wait, are all Irkens hermaphroditic, or just you?”

Zim tilted his head a little to avoid looking Dib directly in the eyes, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “We’re a sexually dimorphic species so … I _ think _ it’s just me.” He finally met Dib’s curious gaze. “Is that weird? I’ve never had to stop and consider if it was _ weird _ , before … And, I mean, you _ are _ gay. So I have to ask if this is a deal breaker or _ exceptionally _ weird to you? I didn’t _ seem _to be an issue ...” he trailed off nervously.

Dib was smiling, eyes full of adoration. “Everything about you is attractive to me, Zim.”

“I’m struggling to reconcile that with you being gay …” Zim said, feeling out of his depth.

At that moment, Dib realized he could no longer avoid explaining gender norms to his nearly 200 year old alien boyfriend. 

“I’ve only ever been attracted to you, Zim,” Dib said softly. “That’s purely what my orientation is based on. And your presentation … reads mostly as male to people. Look … Society sees the two of us as gay, so that’s the main reason I’ve been using the term. What you have between your legs isn’t important to me. But at any rate … You’re not weird. You’re beautiful.” 

Zim looked at him with overwhelming love. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Dib looked down, then away, then nervously met Zim’s eyes. “Do … do you mind if …” his hand twitched in the direction of Zim’s crotch. Zim nodded, and Dib reached a hand down between Zim’s legs, curious. “You have a complete range of motion on that?” he asked, as Zim’s tentacle-phallus curled around his finger. 

“More impressive than a human, right?” Zim said with a grin. 

“So does that mean …” Dib’s eyes went wide. “Wait … fuck … never mind! I feel like this is too invasive or insulting to ask …”

“Can I take a guess?” Zim gave him a knowing smirk and sat back a little further. Dib watched in fascination as Zim slid his cock inside himself, eyelids fluttering and toes curling in pleasure. He arched his back a little, gripping the sheets and breathing quickly, clearly enjoying himself. He slowly slid it back out and opened his eyes to see Dib with his mouth hanging slightly open. 

“You’re drooling, Dib,” he said with a grin, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Dib closed his mouth and blinked. “I just … _ wait wait wait a second! _ You said I wasn’t the only one having arousal issues all day. _ Just how often have you been doing that??? _” 

He thought of all the times in the past 24 hours he had kissed Zim or played with his antennae, then pictured Zim just … taking care of things himself. Dib wondered how long _ that _ image would be replaying itself in his head.

“I have to have _ some _secrets, Dib.” Zim gave Dib a self-satisfied wink. 

“Alright. Fine.” Dib shook his head, still looking spacey. “Well … you got me off. I feel like I should return the favor …” He shot Zim a sheepish look. “Mostly because I’m absolutely _ dying _to go down on you right now …”

Zim looked at him as though he’d just suggested something supremely strange. “I mean, if you’re _ sure _ you’d like to do it that way …”

“It’s not because I don’t want your alien bits near my human ones. Seriously … let’s please make a habit of that. It’s just that …” he took a deep breath before whispering, “there are so many terrible and wonderful things I want to do to you with my tongue.”

Zim laughed softly. “Putting mouths in places they don’t belong is such a distinctly human thing.”

Dib shrunk back. “I won’t if you don't _ want _ me to …”

Zim put a finger under Dib’s chin, lightly running his fingers along until they brushed against his lips. “No, please … show me these terrible and wonderful tongue-things.”

Dib sat up, holding Zim in his lap, and arranged a couple pillows so that Zim could comfortably lay on his back. He looked down at Zim and then pulled him into a hug for a moment, running his hands up Zim’s back.

“Sorry to break the mood. I just love how your skin feels against mine.”

Zim pressed close and kissed his neck. “That’s not breaking the mood.”

Dib kissed the top of his head and then gently laid him down before sliding further down until his face was level with Zim’s lower body. He gently lifted Zim’s hips off the bed. “Put your legs over my shoulders … there we go. Comfortable?”

“You’re doing most of the work here,” Zim said with a blissful smile.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing at any point, just tell me to stop.”

“I don’t think that will be a prob— _ ah _!” he exclaimed softly as Dib suddenly slid the entirety of his cock into his mouth. “A little warning next time!” Zim gently swatted at Dib’s head but quickly leaned back again and melted onto the bed. Dib’s face was flush with Zim’s hips as he moaned and sucked at Zim’s delicate member with unrestrained lust.

“God, you taste so good,” Dib mumbled, losing himself in the warmth between Zim’s thighs.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Zim whispered back, eyes closed and toes curling. He suddenly gasped as Dib slid his cock in and out of his mouth, head bobbing up and down rhythmically. He let the sensations envelop him as Dib breathed hot and hard between his legs. He squeezed his thighs on either side of Dib’s head and Dib just moaned and pressed in deeper in response. He felt Dib’s tongue trailing up and down the underside of his dick and he arched his back as his arousal grew.

Suddenly, Dib’s tongue slid down past his base, lingering a moment, before slipping up inside him. He squeaked in surprise, almost sitting all the way up.

Dib pulled back, eyes worried, drool trailing from his mouth. “I’m sorry … was that okay? I should have asked …”

Zim laid back down, breathing heavily. “I did not ask you to stop, human …”

“Then I’m going to need some verbal feedback going forwards ...” Dib said, nervously.

“If I want you to stop, you’ll know it.” Zim reached up behind Dib’s head and pulled him back towards his waiting dick. A smile grew across Dib’s face and he dove back down with increased vigor, lips sliding down Zim’s shift and tongue flicking in and out and around and up and down. 

“Perfect …” Zim said, voice soft and high, as he crossed his legs behind Dib’s head, trailing his toes up and down Dib’s shoulders and clutching the blankets in his hands. Dib’s mouth was warm and wet between his legs, his breath coming in hot jets as he pressed his face deep between Zim’s legs. Every now and then he would slide Zim’s cock back out of his mouth and tease the tip with his lips and tongue — staying just far enough away that Zim couldn’t use his rather impressive reach and dexterity to part Dib’s lips himself and slide back into his mouth — and Zim would have to frantically grab for a tuft of hair so that he could pull Dib back down onto him. 

Dib pressed his mouth all the way to the base of Zims dick and sucked, tongue rhythmically massaging the underside. Dib was surprised to find how much going down on Zim had in common with kissing him. With every every movement Dib made, he could feel Zim reacting as his cock curled and danced around his tongue. Zim extended his cock out a little further, until it was partially down Dib’s throat. He waited until Dib moaned in approval before sliding it a little deeper. Dib swallowed hard against it and slowly swirled his tongue in circles inside Zim. 

He slid his mouth up to the tip, wetness running down his chin, and slowly ran his tongue up and down every inch of Zim’s undulating member. Zim _ ooooohhh _’d and squirmed in Dib’s grasp, feet kicking gently behind his back. Dib trailed his tongue downwards, then kissed up Zim’s belly. He stopped to stare blissfully into his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Had to come up for air a moment,” he said with a smile. His mouth and chin glistened with saliva and Zim’s own fluids. 

“Fuck, you’re a mess,” Zim said, low and breathless. 

“_ So _ ungrateful,” Dib said playfully, kissing his way back down. He licked up the length of Zim’s trembling cock and kissed the tip, gently flicking his tongue out.

Zim almost wriggled his way out of Dib’s hands. “Would you … _ please _ just … _ stop _ teasing me like that?” he whined. He reached out with both hands and shoved Dib’s face back down between his legs, watching with satisfaction as Dib’s lips parted and his entire hard length disappeared into Dib’s mouth. Dib sucked it obligingly, sliding his tongue back down into Zim and pushing it in and out rhythmically. 

“Oh, Dib … _ Fuck _ … I love you so much …” Zim moaned plaintively as he thrust his hips up towards Dib’s mouth, shoving his dick down his throat once more. “I’m close …” he whispered with sudden urgency. “You don’t have to … If you don’t want me to …”

Dib looked down at him, then slowly closed his eyes as he swirled his tongue inside Zim, who thought that response was pretty clear. He reached up to grab a fistful of Dib’s hair, wrapping his fingers in it. Dib, face fully enveloped by Zim’s body, made a desperate noise in response, sucking harder than ever and pushing his tongue in as deep as it would go. 

The only further warning he got was a soft and high, “Ah … Dib!” before Zim trembled and emptied himself out into Dib’s mouth. 

Dib hungrily held Zim’s hips to his face as he swallowed once, then again, then again, then again, listening to the enraptured noises Zim was making below him and feeling Zim’s body shake with every pulse of his throbbing cock. Finally, Zim’s muscles went slack and Dib gently lowered him to the bed. He was breathing heavily, cock retracted and invisible once more, looking completely wiped out as lay spread out on the quilt.

Dib curled up beside him. “Are you alright?” he asked gently. 

Zim looked up, starry-eyed, and lovingly wiped a bit of stray drool and spooge from Dib’s chin with a trembling hand. “I’m fine …” he said softly. “Do you mind holding me for a little while? That was all … very intense. And I just want you close right now …”

Dib rolled onto his back and pulled Zim up on top of him. As an afterthought, he draped a blanket over Zim to keep him warm, then cuddled him close. “How are you feeling?”

“Sticky and very wet,” Zim said with a sideways look. “You slobbered all over me.”

“Oh, you _ poor thing _,” Dib said with a small laugh, kissing his head.

Zim pressed against Dib’s chest. “I’m feeling a lot of things … you were right. About the feelings getting more intense.”

“Yeah,” Dib whispered. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

Zim looked up and brushed Dib’s sweat-streaked bangs off to the side. “Are you scared?”

“Less scared now that I know we’re going through this together,” he said with a small smile. He gently rubbed Zim’s back, lightly tracing around where his PAK connected to his spine. 

“I really won’t ever leave you, you know,” Zim said softly. He pressed his cheek against Dib’s neck. “I promise. I love you too much. You’re _ my _ human and I don’t want to ever _ not _be with you.”

Dib blushed. “The sex was that good, huh?”

Zim popped his head up to give Dib a withering look, then licked up the side of his face. 

“Guh!! Zim!! Yuck!! What are you doing??”

“And that,” Zim said, “is how I feel when we’re having a moment and you insist on ruining it.”

“Ugh. You’re nasty,” Dib said with a grimace, wiping off his face. “I’m not leaving you, either. You big, dumb jerk.”

Zim glanced between their bodies. “I think we’re both kind of nasty …”

“Shower?” Dib asked.

“I’m glad you said it, so I don’t have to tell you that you smell like sweat and cum,” Zim said, sticking his tongue out.

Dib pulled him close, wrapping both his arms and legs around him. “Mm, on second thought, I’m just gonna stay here and cuddle you …”

“Ugh, Dib!” Zim shrieked, trying to get his face as far away from Dib’s armpits as possible.

Dib pulled him into a kiss and Zim stiffened.

“_ Really _ , Dib?” he muttered against Dib’s lips. “ _ Right after _ you had your face all up in my—” he paused, then suddenly melted into Dib’s arms, kissing back. When Dib finally pulled back with a contented sigh, he saw Zim blushing all the way down to his neck. 

“Is _ that _ what I taste like?” he asked, eyes wide.

Dib smiled and gave a little nod.

“Hmm … okay. Your human mouth sex makes a bit more sense now … I suppose I can permit it more often.”

Dib snuggled him close. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, closing his eyes with a yawn. Zim was warm against his chest, his weight pressing down in a way that made Dib feel overwhelmingly comfortable. He let his mind drift sleepily.

“Hey Dib?” Zim whispered, pulling him back from the edge of sleep.

“Mm?”

“You still smell.”

“... Jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be more where this came from.


	12. Defective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim finally realizes why he's been on edge for the past day. We also get some sweet sweet PAK lore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for self harm and abusive behavior. If you survived the beginning of this story, you'll likely be okay through this chapter.
> 
> Apologies for the wait on this one. This was going to be two chapters but I combined them into one long chapter.
> 
> The song at the start of this chapter came out around a month ago and the moment I heard it, it just made me think of Zim. I try not to repeat bands but _I Fight Dragons_ is just full of good music...  
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_I want a new brain, I want a new heart_  
_I'm sick of feeling, failing, and falling apart_  
_I want the courage to make a new start_  
_Time after time I flip from fine to failing and falling apart_

[\- I Fight Dragons, _A New Brain_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bk7GB1c119M)

* * *

“Did you just fall asleep standing up?”

“I don’t know,” Dib mumbled, eyes closed, standing with his head resting against the bathroom wall. “Did you just drag me out of a dead sleep to bathe me?”

“All you have to do is stand under the shower,” Zim said, exasperated. “Speaking of, the water is human-temperature.” He herded Dib into the shower and stepped in behind him. Dib turned and gave him a bemused look.

“Sorry, the novelty hasn’t quite worn off yet,” Dib said with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

"Novelty of what?"

"You. Us. Not having clothes on. Coupled with the sleep deprivation, the whole situation is kinda surreal.” He closed his eyes and swayed a bit as Zim rubbed a soapy washcloth in circles over his back. He had assumed it would take them longer to get to this point. Really, he had been hoping it would take them longer to get to this point, seeing as he was wholly sexually unexperienced. It had gone better than he could have ever hoped for, though, especially considering they were both completely alien to each other and neither had so much as had a hand job before. Well ... Dib realized he assumed that much of Zim but he didn't know for sure. The idea of Zim having been with other people made his stomach knot up in a way he wasn't used to.

“Hey, um, this might be a weird question to ask, considering everything we just did …” he started nervously.

“Ask away," Zim replied, unperturbed.

“When you said the other day that you didn’t … _do_ physical relationships before, were you telling me the truth? You've really never been with someone else sexually before?”

“I have not … why?”

“Um … it’s stupid …” Dib mumbled, even as relief washed over him.

Zim stepped in front of him and poked him in the stomach. “Not stupid to me,” he said simply as he continued his washing, lifting Dib’s arms.

“I’m just … kind of relieved that we were each other’s firsts,” Dib trailed off with a mumble, going red. “You know … there’s no one out there I need to be jealous of. I don’t have to worry about how I measure up to them or that you still have feelings for them. I … like that you’re all mine.” He made a face. “I know how that sounds … maybe it’s a little fucked up and abnormal.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot the part where any bit of this relationship is normal,” Zim said, before focusing his cleaning efforts between Dib’s legs. 

“Gah! You _ really _don’t have to do that,” Dib said, batting Zim’s hand away. 

“Quit being difficult — I’m trying to take care of you, over here.” He looked up at Dib, who was blushing and trying to look anywhere else. “At any rate ... I feel the same,” he admitted. “Knowing that you’ve never done that with anyone else …”

“To be fair, it would be difficult to do either of the things we just did with another human,” Dib pointed out with a grin.

Zim slapped his stomach with the washcloth. “Would it kill you to take me seriously for two seconds, Dib? I’m _ trying _ to pour my heart out to you,” he grouched. “I’d think you’d be more appreciative.”

“Sorry …”

Zim gave him a curious look. "You've never been attracted to another human at all, have you?"

"No," Dib said softly. "Never really wanted to be. I figured I'd be alone for the rest of my life and that seemed fine."

"But you're attracted to me and you feel all of the types of love for me?"

Dib turned red and gave him an embarrassed smile. "Yeah ... you're ... just really something else, Zim."

Zim smiled back and pushed him directly under the shower stream. “Knowing that you've only ever had those feelings for me? It’s not only a good feeling … it’s a safe feeling.”

“Sometimes I wonder what it says about me that I literally find no one of my species attractive,” Dib said, wiping his bangs out of his eyes.

“It means your heart belongs to me,” Zim said with a grin. “Forever,” he added, as if there might otherwise be some arbitrary time limit imposed upon him.

Dib was aware that this sort of possessiveness was supposed to throw up all kinds of red flags but given the fact that he and Zim had tossed all the rest of society’s rules about relationships straight out the window going 90 miles an hour, he wasn’t terribly bothered. Besides, he would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit flattered.

“As long as you’re sure you want that kind of responsibility, now that you’ve seen how high maintenance I am.”

Zim shrugged. “I feed you, I bathe you, I make sure you keep your promises about staying in one piece,” he said pointedly, poking Dib in the stomach. “It’s not that hard.” He turned Dib around. “Alright. Go dry off. I’ll be right out.”

Dib grinned as Zim pushed him out of the shower. Being bossed around by someone who barely came up to his chest would never cease to amuse him. He grabbed a towel and dried off, then sat on the counter to blow dry his hair until Zim finally stepped out. He pointed the blow dryer in Zim’s direction.

“Point that air-cannon elsewhere, Dib!” Zim griped as he grabbed a towel. “Why does ninety percent of our relationship still consist of us trying to get a reaction out of each other?”

“Because you keep reacting and it’s funny,” Dib said, turning it off and leaning over to kiss Zim’s head. “Now that we’re both clean, are you going to allow me to sleep, finally?”

Zim rolled his eyes with a smile. “I guess I can allow it.”

Dib hung his towel up and cautiously cracked the door. He could faintly hear the downstairs TV, so he opened the door the rest of the way and softly snuck back to his room, Zim trailing behind him.

Back in his bed, he dug around for his discarded clothes. Zim found his shirt first and pulled it on over his head. 

“This is mine, now.”

“What? Why?” Dib asked, finally locating his boxers.

“It smells like you.”

“Don’t _ I _smell like me??” Dib asked quizzically as he lay back down, pulling his idiot boyfriend into a warm embrace. “I mean, you’re in my house. Don’t most things smell like me??”

"I like being wrapped in your scent. Are _you _going to stay wrapped around me all night long?" Zim asked as he snuggled back against Dib. 

“Of course,” Dib said with a kiss. 

“Well, in case you don't, I have this,” Zim mumbled back.

He took Dib's hand and held it against his chest as he pressed back against the curves of Dib's body. Dib exhaled a happy sigh, already drifting back to sleep as he marveled at how complete he felt with Zim in his arms.

* * *

“Hey … Dib … _ hey _ … are you awake?”

Dib groaned as Zim nudged him into consciousness. “I am _ now _,” he mumbled, opening his eyes just enough to register the early morning light filtering through the trees outside his window. “It’s like 8am on a Sunday, Zim. Let me fucking sleep.” He rolled over and pulled the quilt over his head.

“It’s 7:36am.”

“Even better!” Dib said sarcastically. “If you don’t want me to be a crazy person, just let me go back to sleep.”

His brain ached just thinking about being awake. He didn't have the mental faculties to add up exactly how little he had slept in the past week, but he knew it was beginning to get dire. In the silence, his brain started to slip back under the welcome blanket of unconsciousness.

“_ Dib _ …” Zim whined, knocking him back into wakefulness.

Dib rolled back and looked at him over the quilt with bleary eyes. “_ What _?”

“Those thoughts are bothering me again and I need someone to bounce ideas off of.”

Dib was starting to lose his patience.

“So text GIR," he said dismissively.

“How is that even a serious response to my problems right now, Dib?” Zim snapped.

Dib finally sat up a bit and looked at Zim’s worried expression. “Alright, fine. Get over here,” he said defeatedly, pulling Zim close. He was surprised to find that Zim absolutely trembling, his heart pounding against Dib’s hand. “Wait. Are you having an actual panic attack over this?” Dib asked, suddenly a bit more awake.

“I don’t know!” Zim said miserably. “I feel like if I don’t figure this out, something bad is going to happen.”

Dib rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “That sounds like you’re having a panic attack.”

“Okay, _great_ … How do I make it stop??” 

“You need to take some deep breaths and let go of the thing you’re trying to solve right now.”

“But if I don’t—”

“The world is not going to explode in the next five minutes,” Dib interrupted. “Come on … just breathe with me.”

Zim whined, but made an attempt at matching the rhythm of his breaths to that of Dib.

“There we go … in and out … I’ve got you …”

Zim reached back to squeeze his shoulder appreciatively as he took slow, deliberate breaths. He tried to focus on the way each exhale from behind him tickled his antennae, the minute movements Dib made as he held him, the warmth between their bodies. He slowly began to relax as his mind wandered.

“Were you up all night thinking about that?” Dib asked softly when Zim finally seemed to have grounded himself. "I hate to think I left you alone in a time of crisis ..."

“No … I slept for a little bit, then I just kind of watched you sleep for a while … ”

“You did _ what _?” Dib asked with an eyebrow raised.

“You looked so peaceful,” Zim said, blushing. “And I was just appreciating all the little details about you because you’re mine now.”

“Okay, we managed to circle from creepy to cute and now we’re back to creepy again.”

“And then that feeling hit me out of nowhere again.” He buried his face in his hands. “I don’t _ get _ anxiety, Dib. Not like this.”

“I’m still convinced that whatever you’ve forgotten has way less importance than you’re giving it right now,” Dib said. “Are you sure you didn’t … I don’t know … forget a relative’s birthday or something?”

“For the last time, we don’t have ‘family’ on—” Zim suddenly sat up so fast he almost fell off the bed. “_ Oh no _.”

“What?”

Zim turned around, eyes wide._ “My birthday is in a week.” _

Dib burst out laughing before he could stop himself. Zim's antennae pressed flat against his head as he shot Dib a wounded look.

“That’s it???" Dib cackled. "_That’s_ what you’ve been worried about?? How the fuck did you even forget _ that _??”

“It’s not exactly like we use the same calendar, Dib! My birthday doesn’t even fall on the same _ earth season _ from year to year!” Zim shouted, slipping out of Dib’s arms and sliding off the bed to pace frantically around the room. “But that’s not the important part.” He turned around and fixed Dib with an intense stare. “The important part is that it’s my _ 185th birthday _.”

Dib met his gaze for a moment, mercifully silent, then massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m not exactly all caught up on your culture’s _ intricacies _ quite yet, so if you could please explain —”

“Didn’t you spend the last six years _ studying me _or something?” Zim asked, exasperated and resuming his frantic pacing.

“Look, Zim. I think we’re at a point in our relationship where we can both admit we were pretty bad at our jobs.”

“Gah! Whatever — I don’t have time for this!” Zim yelled at the ceiling before whirling around. “Let me spell it out for you: Existence Evaluations are supposed to happen on 185th birthdays.”

Dib froze. Zim stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, ruby eyes bigger than ever and antennae quivering.

“They … they wouldn’t …” Dib’s mouth suddenly went dry. 

Zim gesticulated wildly. “I don’t know! I sure _ hope _ not. But they _ did _ kidnap me for the last one.”

“So what are we—”

“I don’t know! I came in exactly when you did! If I had a plan, I wouldn’t be panicking!”

Dib reached out a hand. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Stop yelling and come here a second.”

“I don’t need you to hold me right now — Everything is too close! I feel like the walls are in my personal space bubble!” Zim moaned miserably. He dropped to the floor and then flopped onto his back, limbs splaying out.

“You’re getting yourself all worked up again, Zim. Just focus on your breathing.” Dib sighed, feeling tired out just from watching Zim's theatrics. “Have they even called you _ at all _ in the past few months?”

“They only really call me on Probing Day and they missed calling me for the last one,” Zim said from the floor. “Otherwise, I call them. And I haven’t done much of that in the past year.”

“So … what I’m hearing is that there’s a good chance they’ll just let you continue being banished here,” Dib said with a shrug.

Zim tiled his head back to look at him, his expression decidedly miffed. “And how do you figure _ that _?”

“The last Evaluation sounds like it was a disaster _ on their end _and you’re not bothering them right now, so they have every reason to just leave you alone. It sounds like a lot of time and energy to waste on someone who is already banished and not doing anything.”

“I don’t know, Dib,” Zim said quietly. “I’m a piece of defective software that has blown the power for half the planet twice and killed two Tallest and brought down the Control Brains. Would you want something like me out there somewhere, alive and doing who knows what?”

Dib bit his lip. “I mean, you’re being a _ little _ self-important, don’t you think?”

“No, I _ don’t _ think,” Zim snapped back. “Did you miss the part where they already tried to deactivate me before? They clearly see me as a liability.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry … You’re right,” Dib whispered. He looked down at Zim, who was staring moodily at the ceiling. “I really don’t want to think about losing you right now. Can we just eat some breakfast and talk game plans after?”

Zim was quiet but rolled so that his back was facing Dib.

“Zim, please don’t sulk over this,” Dib said, frustrated. When Zim didn’t reply, he slid off the bed and went to sit behind him. Zim looked so small in his borrowed shirt, especially with the hem riding up so that his hips were exposed. Dib slipped a hand under it, gently rubbing Zim's back.

“You’re giving me a bit of whiplash, here,” Dib said softly. “I get that you’re upset but you really need to talk to me.”

Zim just mumbled something that didn’t sound like English but he still relaxed under Dib’s touch. Dib leaned over and ran a gentle finger down Zim’s cheek. Zim finally looked up and moved over so that his head was in Dib’s lap, rolling to face him. Dib stroked his antennae in what he hoped was a comforting manner, and Zim pressed his face into Dib’s shirt.

“The first time they tried to deactivate me, I was just worried about myself,” Zim said softly. “That day in the greenhouse? The one where I promised not to leave you again? I’d just gotten back from trying to have someone fix my PAK. The plan was to fix whatever had gone wrong so I was no longer defective, delete all the memories of my failures, and permanently encode me as an Invader. So that if they ever tried to evaluate me again, I would pass.” Zim looked up sadly. “None of it really took. I mean, the memories of my time on Irk are hazy now. But … I’m still defective and still encoded as a food service drone so if they evaluate me again … I’m either going to end up re-banished or dead, Dib. And I’m supposed to be taking care of you …” His voice broke and he took a shaky breath before sitting up and moving to Dib’s lap. He put his arms around Dib’s shoulders and rested his head against Dib’s chest. “I don’t want to lose you. I just got you and … It’s not fair.”

Dib kissed the side of his head gently. “It’s not. But I’m not letting anyone take you from me. I don’t even want to think they’d go to all the trouble ... but if it would make you feel better, we’ll figure something out.”

“It would make me feel better.”

“Okay. Then we’ll work on it. But _ after _breakfast. At least let me take care of one of the things in the hierarchy of needs before we get any deeper into this…”

Zim looked guilty. “You can go back to bed,” he said, sitting up.

Dib just waved a dismissive hand. “I’m awake now. It’s fine.”

They got dressed and headed downstairs, where Gaz was still set up on the couch.

“I’d ask if you slept at all, but I think I already know the answer,” Dib said as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Of course not -- it’s a Sunday,” she replied. “What the hell are you doing up so early?”

“Zim finally figured out what he was so anxious over.”

“Oh?”

Dib gave Zim a pointed look and raised his eyebrows. Zim sighed.

“My birthday is in a week,” he said, forlorn. 

Gaz predictably lost her shit.

“Pffft! What??” she asked, doubled over laughing. “Okay, wait until my team clears this stage and then you’re extrapolating on that.”

Zim looked back and forth between Dib and Gaz. 

“Don’t look at me -- I’m not explaining jack shit,” Dib said. “But I will make you breakfast. Um … what are you _ not _allergic to?”

“Anything not made of meat,” Zim said flippantly. “Oh, and no beans. I’m not allergic. They’re just awful.”

“How about scrambled eggs and cheese?”

“How about just the cheese?” Zim chirped with a grin.

“How about watch your cholesterol?”

“I don’t even know what that _ is, _Dib. Just bring me cheese with a side of egg. And an entire bottle of syrup.”

Dib disappeared into the kitchen and Zim flopped down on the couch dramatically and waited for Gaz to finish up her game. His sudden and easy friendship with Dib’s sister was still something of a shock to him. Over the course of a weekend he had gained both a boyfriend and an actual friend. The idea that he now had two people who actually cared about his well being was still a bit foreign.

“Yes!” 

Gaz’s exclamation shook Zim out of his thoughts. 

“Okay, I’m all ears,” she said, setting down her controller. 

Zim gave her a strange look. “Do you really care about what’s going on with me?”

“Dude, I willingly turned away from a game. If that doesn’t tell you everything you want to know, then I don’t know what will.” When Zim didn’t immediately respond, she looked at him with concern. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that,” Zim said. “It’s just … Alright, look. We’re friends, right?”

“I’d definitely call us that.”

“It’s weird,” Zim blurted out. “Having friends. I’m not used to it. It’s _ very _weird. It’s strange to think that anyone cares what goes on in my life.”

“And it’s strange to think my brother’s former nemesis is sitting on the couch with me at fuck-you-o-clock in the morning, waiting for breakfast,” Gaz replied with a shrug. “You’ve just got to kind of bask in the weirdness and not let it shake you.”

“At this point I may as well just build a damn house in the weirdness,” Zim muttered. 

“There you go — that’s the spirit!” Gaz said encouragingly, reclining back against the arm of the couch. “So, come on. Regale me.”

* * *

Dib closed the door to the pantry and slid to the floor. It was a cruel irony that, now that he was alone, his emotions seemed to be completely inaccessible. He had put on a brave act in front of Zim to keep him from throwing a complete tantrum, but the idea that the Tallest could just swipe Zim away on a whim for bullshit legal proceedings made him nervous. Irkens, as far as he could tell, ran purely on spite and it seemed exactly like the sort of petty revenge they would enact on Zim.

Under the door, he could hear Zim and his sister talking animatedly. He was grateful to be able to pawn Zim off on Gaz for a little while. Zim’s tendency to be immovably stuck at eleven most of the time was draining, no matter if they were enemies or friends or dating. It didn’t help that Dib was a horrible emotional anchor. He forced himself to get up and actually make breakfast. Even though his lack of sleep made his brain struggle with the simple order of steps involved in cooking eggs, it was still somehow easier than summoning the energy to make food for just himself. Before this past weekend, there were so many days when he just pulled a granola bar or a fruit cup out of his bedside table and called it lunch. 

When he finally carried the plates in, Zim flashed him a grin.

“I’ve got a game plan, Dib. How much do you like debugging code?”

“I like it when it _ works _,” Dib said skeptically. “Why?”

“I still have the program I commissioned to fix my PAK. We’re gonna go back over it and try and make it work this time.”

Dib flashed Gaz a worried look and she gave a small shrug in response.

“Tampering with your brain? I dunno, Zim …”

“Oh, we’ll tamper with yours next, Dib. Don’t worry,” Zim said nonchalantly as the point whizzed straight over his head. “This is on a shorter timescale. Besides, between the two of us, I bet we can knock it out in an afternoon.” Zim took a handful of the shredded cheese Dib had piled on his plate and dropped it in his mouth.

“If you’re sure that’s the route you want to take,” Dib said, doubt heavy on his mind. Making Zim an acceptable Irken seemed like a dangerous move for their relationship.

“Have you got a better idea?” Zim huffed, drowning his eggs in maple syrup.

“No,” Dib admitted. 

“Then this is what we’re trying first,” Zim replied resolutely, stuffing his mouth full of cheese and egg and syrup.

A little knot of worry formed in the pit of Dib’s stomach, and only got worse when they made their way to Zim’s base. By the time they were in the lab, Dib was feeling thoroughly queasy.

“Vortians used to work for the Empire, before their planet was conquered and all on-world inhabitants were imprisoned. I have a Vortian contact from the prison that I sometimes commission things from,” Zim explained, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do. 

“Wait, is he your prisoner or someone else’s?” Dib asked, looking horrified.

“He’s a prisoner of the _Irken Empire_, Dib. What do you want from me? Should we go stage a little prison break before we fix my problem or what?” Zim asked with narrowed eyes. “I can’t save the galaxy if I can’t even save myself.”

“Alright, alright …”

“Anyway. As I was saying. This prisoner had some intel about PAK encoding. Which was lucky, because most Irkens don’t even get to see how PAKs operate at a programmatic level, since it could be a huge liability for the Empire if any of us were captured.” Zim pulled up a wall of code on the computer screen. “Prisoner 777 gave me this program with the caveat that he couldn’t promise it would do anything. And lo and behold it _didn’t_ … but it came _close_. And I’ve been thinking about how to shore it up so that it actually works this time.”

Zim began typing away, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he focused. Dib stood by nervously, watching as Zim rapidly made corrections.

“Are you sure about this, Zim? I mean, if the Vortians couldn’t fix it and they’re supposed to have a handle on things—.”

“Vortians don’t have the benefit of experiencing a PAK first hand,” Zim replied dismissively. “I know myself better than any Vortian ever could.”

Zim saved the file and Dib held his breath. 

“Computer!” Zim shouted.

“Ugh, _ what _?”

“Run PAK diagnostics.”

“But I _ just _ ran PAK diagnostics _ earlier this week _,” the Computer whined. 

“Fine. Pull up only the designation encoding, then.”

“Encoding: Food Service Drone.”

What Dib could only assume was the Irken Empire's food service drone insignia appeared on the screen.

Zim smiled. “Not for long. Computer ... run Protocol Alpha.”

Dib snickered.

"What?" Zim asked with a scowl. "I didn't name it that! Prisoner 777 did!"

“Warning: Program Protocol Alpha is not an approved application. Origins uncertain.”

Zim fixed the machine with a glare. “The origins are _ Vortian, _ much like _ yours—“ _

“I was coded by Irk’s top computer engineers for the glory of the Irken Empire. Long live the Tallest.”

Zim rubbed his temples. “_Good for you_. The update to this program was written by _ me _ for the glory of _ me. _Long live Invader Zim. So just go ahead and run it, already. You have my approval. Because I wrote it and I’m sitting right the fuck here.”

A progress bar appeared and slowly marched towards 100%. Zim wrung his hands nervously. This was still only step one in a long list of things to sort out. He reached for Dib’s hand and slid their fingers together. 

The progress bar hit 90% … 91% … 92% ….

“Critical Error.”

Zim slammed the fist of his other hand on the console. “Where?!?” he shouted, making Dib jump slightly.

“Improper permissions.”

Zim leaned over the keyboard, muttering under his breath, and revised a few lines of code in an attempt to fix the required system permissions. Dib stood over his shoulder. 

“That’s too broad,” Dib said, watching the line Zim was fixing. “You want it to have access to every system in your PAK, but if you don’t constrain what it can do to your memory drive once it gets in there, you might end up losing more recent memories. I’m guessing you don’t want to lose memories of me.”

Zim said nothing but fixed the code to Dib’s specifications. He saved the file with an irritated button smash. “THERE. Run it again.”

The progress bar appeared, moving more quickly this time. 95% … 96%... 

“Critical Error.”

Zim kicked the console. “What the fuck is it this time?!?”

“Improper Encoding for Invader Class. Outdated.”

Zim’s antennae pressed back against his head. “Oh, that’s not good …” he whispered.

Dib gave him a quizzical look. “What’s that mean?”

“That means something about the way Invaders are encoded changed drastically between when this program was drawn up last year and now,” Zim replied gravely. “Computer … pull the database from The Massive. Figure out what the new designation is.”

Dib gave him a surprised glance. “You can do that? Won’t they notice?”

Zim sat down again and propped his feet up on the console, looking smug. “I’ve had a back door into their system for a while now. The only issue here is that while I can see the database, I won’t be able to pull up any of the code behind the scenes that would show me what changed regarding how Invaders are encoded in the system or why the change was added.” He suddenly gave Dib a curious look. “You know computer science _ is _a science, right? The same can be said of working on cars, really.”

“Yes. And?”

“And you’re not half bad at either,” Zim said. “You have all these skills in practical fields. Why don’t you go to school for one of those? Get your father off your back and get into something lucrative for yourself?”

“Really, Zim? You’re gonna pull out a 'why don’t you go into a _ real science' _ right now?”

Zim held up his hands defensively. “No, I’m just saying that, between the two of us, I bet we could rake in enough cash to buy you some pretty impressive ghost hunting equipment and take some long weekends off. If you can’t monetize your passion, it could at least make a good hobby.”

Dib looked surprised. "Huh ... you make a decent point."

“Designation found,” the computer announced with a sudden chime.

“Perfect,” Zim said under his breath, copying the designation on the screen into his own program. “Okay. Run it again.” He turned to Dib. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

Dib gave him a thumbs-up. 

The computer sighed and the progress bar appeared once more. 98% … 99% …

“Terminating Program.”

“Why??” Zim asked, teeth gritted. He'd had about enough of this.

“Incompatible Host.”

_ “EXCUSE YOU??” _Zim bristled and Dib eyed him nervously. 

“Incompatible Host. Designation: Defective.”

The “Food Service” designation on the screen had been replaced with a broken PAK icon with DEFECTIVE stamped over it. 

Zim’s eyes went wide. “Oh no … _ oh no no no no _ …”

Dib put a gentle hand on his shoulder and he turned around. “I’ve never seen it do that … that must mean they scan for Defectives before you can even be encoded as an Invader … that’s it … _ that’s what’s changed. _”

“Okay,” Dib said gently. “So we just have to switch the order on our to-do list.”

“I still don’t know what the program on Irk’s side is even _ looking for _to determine who is or isn’t defective!” Zim buried his face in his hands, trembling.

“So we’ll keep looking …”

“No … no … _ fuck _ ! Computer! _ Run it again! _”

Dib looked on helplessly, knowing nothing would change but unsure of how to put a stop to Zim’s frantic behavior. 

The progress bar reappeared. 90% … 95% … 98% … 99%. 

“Terminated. Host Defective.”

_ “Again!” _

“Terminated. Host Defective.”

_ “Run it again!!!!” _Zim screeched. 

“No, don’t run it! It’s not going to change things, Zim!” Dib yelled.

“Terminated. Host Defective.”

“No! NO!!! I am Zim! I am an Invader! I am NOT Defective!”

“Zim! Stop!!” Dib yelled at the same time as Zim shrieked, _“Run it again!”_

“Warning: too many attempts to overwrite. PAK systems critical. Inadvisable to run again.”

“I said _RUN IT AGAIN!_”

_ “NO!!!” _

“Warning: Overload.”

“I don’t care!!! Run it until it works!” Zim wailed.

“Warning: Overload.”

Dib went to physically yank the cables out but Zim suddenly stood on his PAK legs, knocking him backwards, blaster pointed at the console. 

_“I AM NOT DEFECTIVE!!!”_ he roared, letting loose a barrage of blaster fire. Electricity arced over the cables and across his PAK, blowing him backwards across the room. 

The lights flickered as Dib panicked, desperately searching the console for the button to release the tether of cables from Zim’s PAK. Across the room, bright sparks illuminated Zim’s twitching body. Dib finally located the control and the cables released, leaving Zim motionless on the floor. Dib rushed across the room and crouched over him. 

“Zim?” he asked, fear tearing at the edges of his voice. He cautiously rolled Zim over and put an ear to his chest. He couldn’t hear anything. 

“Fuck …” He sat back up, mind racing, trying to remember the steps for CPR and desperately wondering if the same technique would apply to Irkens, when Zim’s PAK suddenly shocked him back to life. He came up gasping and Dib skittered backwards. 

“What happened??” Zim wheezed, looking around with a bewildered expression. “Where …? When …?”

“You just DIED!!!” Dib yelled back, not yet sure if he was terrified or relieved or angry or grateful.

“Oh … shit … I think I’m okay now …” Zim mumbled, rubbing his head. Dib watched wordlessly as he wiggled his fingers and rolled his shoulders, testing each joint before he slowly stood up with a worrying wobble. At his side, one of his hands spasmed, fingers splaying open of their own accord. “See? Perfectly f-fine,” Zim stuttered. 

“I’m not!!” Dib shouted, getting to his feet. Zim gave him a concerned look. Or, as concerned a look as he could, given the fact that one eye was twitching. “You’re acting completely insane and it literally just got you killed!”

“Don’t call me insane …” Zim warned, right antenna bobbing above his head erratically.

“What you just did was something I would have expected from _middle school Zim_!” Dib yelled as he paced the short length of the room. He didn’t know if he was more scared or angry at this point, and he also wasn’t sure the distinction really mattered. He was aware that he was violating their ground rules but his head was buzzing and his stomach felt sick and he couldn’t make sense of anything he was feeling. 

“Lower your volume, Dib,” Zim said tersely. “Whatever the fuck just happened gave me a headache and your screeching is _ not _ helping.”

Dib looked at him incredulously. “‘_Whatever the f—’_?? … Jesus, turn around, Zim!” He gestured wildly at the smoking computer terminal. “You shot this thing to hell! You’re … You’re freaking out and it’s not even like what you’re worried about is liable to happen! You’re acting like a crazy person over _ nothing! _”

“Well it takes one to know one, D-Dib!” Zim shouted back, body still jerking awkwardly.

Dib started at him, silently fuming. “You know what? _Fine_. Keep banging your head against a brick wall for _absolutely no good goddamn reason_.” He started towards the doorway. “I can’t even process any of this right now.”

“Fine!” Zim spat back. “Go ahead and walk out on me. See if I care! Just don’t expect any help from me for _ your _ problems, you … you _fucking lunatic_!”

“Fuck you,” Dib growled as he stormed out of the room. He stomped his way to the elevator and got inside. It crawled up from the subterranean depths with agonizing slowness. Dib felt his anger boiling over and he punched the wall, feeling the pain explode over his hand. He screamed in frustration and hit it again and again until he felt his knuckles might break. He stood back, breathing heavily as the elevator chimed. He climbed out into the kitchen, dreading having to walk by GIR. 

“You leavin’ so soon, Mary??” GIR asked as Dib walked past. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll be back later,” he said, even though he wasn’t really sure about that right at the moment. 

“Okay buh-bye now!” GIR replied cheerily before directing his attention back to the TV. 

Dib made his way back to his car and, once inside, sat with his hands on the steering wheel, trying to collect himself. His knuckles ached and he tried to use the pain to anchor himself back in his body. His left hand was red and swollen, marked with scarlet where his skin had broken open. Zim would definitely be asking him about _ that _ later. If their massive, stupid fight hadn’t just been the end of them, that was. He started up the car and hoped the drive would clear his head. 

He felt stuck in a loop where he was mad at Zim for being an idiot but then mad at himself for blowing up at Zim. He didn’t know whether to grovel for Zim’s forgiveness or demand an apology. He bounced back and forth between who he was more mad at and who he _ should _be more mad at and feeling terribly sorry and feeling horribly hurt and before he knew it, he was outside his house and no less emotionally confused. He parked his car and made his way inside, hoping Gaz would still be there. These emotions were coming out one way or another, be it through his mouth or through his veins. 

“Gaz?” he shouted. “Are you home?”

He made his way through the house only to find the kitchen and living room both dark and quiet. He trudged upstairs and called her name again. The house remained resolutely still. He knocked on her door and when no one answered, he opened it slightly. Her room was just as dark and empty as the rest of the house. He walked into his own room and shut the door. He leaned against it for a moment trying to have at least one coherent thought, but his thoughts were too loud and too fast and too close for him to make any sense of them. He needed everything to back off; the more attention he turned inwards, the more he felt like he was drowning. He approached his dresser, pulled a drawer open and rifled through the clothes inside until he finally uncovered a small, nondescript cardboard box, then went to sit down on the floor. He felt so overwhelmingly shitty for being awful to Zim, but he also couldn’t stop being livid that Zim had been so reckless and had called him a lunatic on top of things. His thoughts were playing tug-o-war with his heart and he just … needed … for them to … _ shut. up. a moment … _

Despite his anger, he wanted nothing more than to run back to Zim and take comfort in his touch. Somehow he’d become the only person who could calm Dib down and make things right. Dib had no idea what to do in the case where Zim was unreachable _ and _the cause of his problems. He oscillated back to anger so quickly it gave him whiplash. 

Zim had hit dead-center on Dib’s insecurities and right then, Dib wanted to hurt Zim back just as badly. He was barely aware of reaching into the box for a blade, or tugging the waistband of his jeans down to expose his hip. He held his pain hostage and used it to give form to something so stupid and illogical that looking at the end result shocked him out of his trance. He stared down at Zim’s name, upside down and dripping beads of blood, and felt like he might be sick.

“Oh no … fuck,” Dib cursed at himself quietly. “Stupid … so stupid … he’s going to murder me when he sees this …” 

He didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow felt even worse. He had never done something so blatantly manipulative and … well, he hesitated to call it _ evil _outright, but it was close. He slowly got to work cleaning the wound and attempting damage control, the sting of rubbing alcohol rapidly sobering him up. The bleeding was mercifully minimal but it was still clear what he had done. He put everything away back in the drawer with unfettered disgust and grabbed his headphones so that he could lay face down in bed and drown out the world until he figured out what to do to make things right with Zim. He buried his head in his arms and lost himself in some rather loud Linkin Park. 

What he had done was the worst possible way to punish Zim for upsetting him, and he knew it. He took the one thing that Zim had explicitly told him to stop doing, and did it in such a way that it threw everything back in Zim’s face. He couldn’t have picked a worse way to deal with his problems and he knew that _ when _ — not _ if _ — the blowback happened, it was going to be hell to deal with. He was a bad enough liar as it was. Trying to keep this under both literal and metaphorical wraps would eat at him until the inevitable panic attack forced him to confess.

He let his thoughts buzz around in his head until he gradually dozed off into an uneasy but dreamless sleep. He snapped awake some time later to find that his playlist had stopped. He was unsure what had roused him and was about to actually get up when he suddenly felt his bed sink under the weight of another person and stiffened. Someone gently pulled his headphones off his head and he finally looked up to see Zim sitting next to him. He cursed himself for not thinking to lock the window, but he figured Zim would have just found another way in if he had. Besides ... maybe he secretly _wanted_ to be found out. 

“You smell like blood,” Zim whispered, eyes sad. The fact that he had his contacts in made him look more melancholy and betrayed than he would have otherwise.

Dib knew there was no point in even trying to lie. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely audible. He pushed himself up and sat in front of Zim, eyes averted. 

“I asked … no … I _ told you _ not to do that anymore!” Zim said, raising his voice. “I let you run off because I wanted to give both of us space to cool down and I _trusted you_ not to do anything stupid!”

Dib wanted to be yelled at. He wanted Zim to call him out and verbally shred him. It was what he knew he deserved.

Zim grabbed the collar of Dib’s shirt and Dib braced himself to be hit or screamed at. He was not prepared for Zim to collapse against him with his face buried against his chest.

“Why?” Zim asked, sounding small and broken.

_ Because I felt like hurting you back. _

“Because I was sad and scared and hurt and I didn’t know what else to do,” Dib murmured, arms at his sides. “I just couldn’t … _fucking_ think …”

“Is it because I called you crazy?” Zim asked, sitting back to look up at him. 

Dib turned his head away, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep from breaking down completely.

Zim put a hand on Dib’s face to turn his head back. “Dib? _ Please _ …”

“Don’t make me say it … I don’t wanna say and hurt you even more …” Dib pleaded tearfully.

Zim’s gaze fell to Dib’s hip, where his shirt had ridden up slightly, and he reached down. Dib panicked and pressed a hand over it. “I took care of it! It’s fine!” 

Zim’s eyes searched Dib’s for a moment before his shoulders fell. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Where’s whatever you used to do that?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m taking it and disposing of it. You clearly run to this without even thinking so I’m disrupting the pattern. We’re not doing this anymore, Dib. You're done.”

Dib finally looked at him, defensive anger bubbling up. “What does it _matter_ if you take them from me? You know I can just go to the store and buy more …”

Zim glared at him. “_Cute_ that you think you will _ ever _ be allowed out of sight long enough to do this again. If I have to follow you around, 24/7, 365, for the rest of our lives, I _will_ do it. Go ahead and fucking test me.”

Dib hung his head in shame, wishing the earth would swallow him up. “Fine. The box is in the dresser … top drawer on the left.”

Zim slid from the bed and went to rifle through the drawer. He held up a small cardboard box and Dib nodded.

“Is this the only one?” Zim asked. He shot Dib a rather intense look. “If I think you’re lying to me, I swear on the Tallest that I will turn this entire room upside down.”

Dib hugged his knees to his chest miserably. “That’s the only one.”

Zim padded across the room and jumped back up on the bed. He set the box off to the side and pressed his face into his hands. “I’m not even _mad_ right now. I don’t have the energy. I’m _ hurt. _ Just … _ the one thing, Dib. _ The _ one thing _I ask you not to do and the minute we’re not by each other’s sides … you go and do it! This isn’t how we’re supposed to be dealing with things.”

“I’m sorry,” Dib said quietly. Zim reached for his hand but he pulled away. Zim blinked in confusion and then grabbed for his hand again, holding it close to his face and looking it over.

“What happened?” he asked with a gaze that Dib felt was staring into his very soul.

“I punched the wall in the elevator,” Dib muttered, feeling stupid and childish.

“Can you _ please _ stop finding creative new ways to hurt yourself? This is just …” He looked like he was reaching his breaking point. “What’s going on, Dib?”

“I don’t know …”

“I’ll wait here until you do.”

Dib desperately wanted to close the foot of space between them and hold Zim until everything got better. But the knowledge of _ why _he’d run back to cutting weighed like lead in his stomach and he didn’t feel worthy of going to Zim for comfort. Doing so felt like deception and Zim didn’t deserve that.

“I guess … watching you lose it and then _ die _for a few seconds earlier freaked me out,” he said, finally. “I don’t know why I got so angry. Maybe I just didn’t know how else to process how upset I was.” He looked down at his bruised hand. “Right now I just feel bad and gross and unloveable. ...Ugh. Look … I’m sleep deprived and stressed out and today was … weirdly triggering in ways I wasn’t expecting …”

Zim looked him over, as if trying to discern something from Dib’s body language. “You mean something other than me calling you crazy?”

Dib made a conflicted noise. “I guess … thinking about your body as just being a thing to carry your PAK around skeeves me out a little. And dealing with trying to re-encode you today just put that right in my face where I couldn’t escape it but I also don’t have the tools to deal with it in any remotely healthy way.”

Zim now looked blatantly confused. “But doesn’t your body exist as a vehicle for _ your _brain? I don’t see where the difference lies… ”

“It’s not really the same thing, Zim. How do I even explain this? I guess … I’m biologically me. Your body also has a biological brain but it’s being circumvented by a piece of machinery.” He looked up and Zim still seemed completely flummoxed. “What I’m trying to say is … who are you without your PAK?”

Zim gave him a very strange look.

“_ No one _, Dib,” he said, slowly. “Not only because my body is dead in 10 minutes without it, but also because there’s nobody home in my biological brain. It’s like asking what your appendix is thinking about. It doesn’t. It’s a vestigial organ.”

“Can you prove that?” Dib asked desperately. “That there isn’t … someone else in there?”

“Yeah, sure; if you feel like getting all buddy-buddy with death twice in one day, we can put my PAK on you and we can watch what happens to my body,” Zim said darkly, antennae pressed flat again.

“Alright. Do you want to go back to the lab for that?” Dib asked, moving to get up. 

“Dib, stop. I was being sarcastic!” Zim grabbed his wrist. 

“And I’m dead serious. _Please_ … let’s just do this so I can put it out of my head, alright?”

“Does this _ really _bother you that much?” Zim asked, looking a little horrified at Dib’s behavior. 

“The more I’ve thought about it, _ yes _,” Dib said. “Like … It’s a little weird to think I’m talking to a hyper-advanced AI looking at me through the eyes of something organic—“

“Some_ thing _?” Zim asked with a cynical eyebrow raise. 

“Some_ one _. Sorry. I … fuck. You know what I mean! It’s just … it wigs me out on some level. But I can get over it as long as I know that there’s no one else banging around in there.”

“You want to know that I’m not a parasite,” Zim said flatly. 

“That’s not a great way to phrase it …”

“But it’s _true_, isn’t it?” Zim gave him a wounded look. Dib wouldn’t meet his gaze. Zim’s antennae dropped behind his head and he scowled. “Fine. We’ll go to the lab. But once I’ve put a stop to your nonsense, I don’t want to hear about this again. _Ever_. You understand?”

“Alright. Fine.” Dib slid off the bed and grabbed his phone. Zim hadn’t moved and was following Dib with his eyes. “Are you coming?”

“I think I’ll walk back by myself,” Zim said, finally turning and opening the window. He sounded hurt and Dib mentally kicked himself for screwing everything up yet again. “There’s a lot I need to process.”

Before Dib could say anything further, Zim was gone. 

Dib sighed heavily and made his way down to his car. Gaz was still missing for the moment, so he had no one but himself to mull things over with, and he knew that never ended well. He had a feeling that if Gaz _ were _there, she would probably tell him to quit purposefully trying to sabotage things with the one person in the world who definitely loved him and was willing to humor all of his bullshit. As he got in the car and headed back to Zim’s base, he wondered how things had gone so wrong over the course of the day. He knew that fighting was inevitable, but he didn’t expect them to be having issues like this so soon.

Dib had to ask himself to what extent he was looking for things to be upset over. Maybe he was just too broken to let himself be happy for more than a day at a time. Maybe he was too used to putting up walls between himself and Zim, deflecting with anger any time Zim made him feel something and using that to push him away. Though he had to admit that the general mystery of Irken biology had poked him like a splinter these past couple days, growing more and more difficult to ignore. And now that he was being forced to confront the way Zim was literally wired, he could no longer lock the concept away in his mental vault. It only added to his growing concern that he didn’t really know or understand Zim and — given Zim’s own assertion that he was literally defective software — that he might never fully be able to.

By the time he found himself standing outside his destination, dread had pooled in his stomach. He knocked and heard GIR yell for him to come in.

“Master said for you to meet him in the lab!” GIR said with his usual charisma. All Dib could do was nod and make his way down. The elevator ride seemed much too short this time and his anxiety spiked as he walked through the hallway to the lab. Zim was sitting up on one of the tables, kicking his feet back and forth, the charred remains of what Dib assumed used to be the cardboard box scattered beside him. Dib noticed that the console and screen had been repaired from earlier. He stood in the doorway and Zim slipped down to the floor. 

“Were you here cleaning up the whole time?” Dib asked.

“No need for it. The base is self-repairing,” Zim replied, sounding worn out. “I was looking through the data in my PAK and … I figured it out,” he said, so quietly Dib had to strain to hear him. “It’s nothing mysterious or clever … the program is literally just looking for whether or not you’ve had an Existence Evaluation and if you have, whether or not you passed. I had one ... and even if I made it back alive, the records will always show that I didn’t pass.” Zim gave a half-hearted shrug. “So that’s it. If I’d even been considering for a moment that I might someday go back to Irk … I can’t. I’d have to … what do humans call it? ‘Live off the grid’? Which, for Irkens … well, being on earth is the closest I can get to that.”

“Zim—” Dib started, but Zim pretended not to hear.

“Anyway, let’s get this freak show over with,” he said joylessly. 

“It sounds like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Dib said cautiously. “We can do this some other time if— ”

“I’m not going to have you skeeved out by me for the rest of _ however long _ , thinking I’m … some _ parasite _ ,” Zim snapped, cutting him off. “We’re doing this _ now _ and then _ you _ are shutting up about it. Got it?” Zim didn’t give him time to reply. “Computer!”

“What do you want _ now _?” the machine droned.

“Set a timer for 10 minutes and don’t run it until I say so. And Dib … Take your shirt off. Unless you want holes in it,” Zim said with a sideways glance.

Dib did as he was told and shivered in the chilly air. Zim stood behind him.

“We’re really just jumping into this?” Dib asked nervously, looking over his shoulder. 

“It’s not like there’s any prep. We transfer my PAK to you and you get to watch my body drool on itself for 10 minutes and then we never speak of it again.”

Dib had no good reply to that. 

“Ready?” Zim asked, still sounding a touch irritable.

“As I’ll ever be,” Dib replied hesitantly.

“Computer … start the timer.”

The timer started counted down and Dib heard a click as Zim’s pack disconnected. “No promises on what this will feel like …” Zim said as the PAK pressed under Dib’s shoulder blades. He felt a tickle as small fibers snaked over his skin, then a prickling sensation as they slid in and connected with his nervous system. Zim sat down on the floor, leaning against the console and closing his eyes. 

“Give it a minute or two,” he said with a dismissive hand wave. 

The world wobbled in Dib’s vision for a moment and he felt his skin break out in a cold sweat as the minuscule PAK cables finished snaking their way through his spine. 

“_ So … _” said Zim’s voice in Dib’s head unexpectedly, startling him so badly that he jumped several feet in the air and shrieked.

_ “WHAT THE FUCK??” _

“Calm down,” said the Zim in front of him.

“Your voice is in my head!!” Dib sputtered. 

“It’s called _ thinking _, Dib. Get with the program.”

“Not when it’s an _ actual voice _ talking to you, it’s not!” Dib yelled. “And how the hell are _ you _ still talking to me?”

“_ You know when you pull out a power cord and the light in the power bank stays on for a little while? _ ” the Zim in his head asked. “ _ It’s like that … he’s an echo of my consciousness. And we’ll just have to wait for him to fade so that you can see there is nothing else going on in there. _”

Dib braced himself. Though, what for _ exactly _, he couldn’t say. It wasn't like he expected Zim’s body to jump up and start pleading for help in someone else’s voice. Still, he watched the rise and fall of Zim’s chest with some trepidation. 

In the background, he felt his memories from earlier flutter in his mind. How upset he was at Zim and how badly he wanted to get back at him. Dib pushed them away with disgust but they flooded back again, even stronger this time. Images of Zim’s name carved into his skin came forward unbidden.

“_ You did that to _ ** _get back at me_ ** _ ? _” PAK-Zim asked incredulously.

Dib could feel the hurt and anger flooding through his body.

“_What _**_the hell,_**_ Dib?_ _The one thing I explicitly ask you not to do, and you not only do it … you **write my fucking name on you in blood**? If you were trying to upset me … mission fucking accomplished._”

Dib felt bile rise in his throat and he legitimately wasn’t sure if that reaction was from himself or Zim or both of them equally.

“You’re in my head, so I _ know _ you can feel how badly I feel over that,” Dib muttered. 

“Hm?” said the Zim sitting in front of him, eyes still closed.

“Nothing,” Dib said quickly.

“_ Oh, alright. And then you just _ ** _lie_ ** _ to me. Great. _”

“If that’s just you without a brain, then you have nothing to worry about, Zim.”

He didn’t want to dwell on it too long, but it was hard to ignore the betrayal the underpinned Zim’s roiling anger. 

“_ This conversation isn’t over, Dib. Once we’re done with this little experiment, we _ ** _will be_ ** _ revisiting this topic. _”

Dib could still feel Zim rifling through his memories. Given the energy it took to block him out, Dib decided to allow it and come along for the ride. He was pulled back to the first day Zim had appeared in class. Dib had forgotten his unhinged drive to catch and expose Zim and felt ill again as he re-lived their chase from school to Zim’s base. There was no thought in his mind aside from vivisecting Zim and finally getting the attention he so desperately craved … _ no; deserved. _Suddenly that memory was gone and they were sitting in chemistry class, several weeks into the school year. Dib was handing Zim a beaker and their hands touched momentarily. Dib’s heart pounded in his chest and for the first time, he realized he was undeniably falling for Zim. He felt as though he was being yanked backwards and now they were sitting in the greenhouse, Zim reaching out to touch Dib’s bruised eye and Dib flinching back. Dib recalled how his heart fluttered, having Zim that close to him. Wanting to kiss him but knowing that they’d be back to fighting before the end of the week. His heart aching in his chest at the thought of fighting again. That memory faded and he was walking through the school yard as Zim trotted at his heels, trying to get a rise out of him. He felt his stomach drop as he remembered how badly he wanted Zim to leave him alone so that he could go home and deal with things the only way he knew how. In a second, the scene had changed and he was sitting on his floor, sobbing over his father’s rejection and how shitty punching Zim felt. The memory zipped away right as he took a blade to his wrist and skipped to where Zim was whisking him across the rooftops. He felt the safety and cautious infatuation that had swirled in his mind.

Zim’s presence seemed to contemplate for a moment before suddenly digging for very specific memories. Dib blinked and Zim was sitting sadly in front of him, so open and honest and vulnerable, and Dib seized the moment and pulled him into a desperate kiss. Once again, that deep and indescribably satisfied feeling washed over him, filling all the empty spaces he hadn't even been aware of. He wanted so badly for Zim to be his and his alone. He felt like he was falling slowly and now it was a chilly, starry night and he was snuggled against Zim, putting everything on the line as he returned a cautiously optimistic “I love you”. Faster now … Dib pinning Zim against the car and kissing him, desperately pressing their bodies together and wanting so much more … Zim sitting in front of him, clothes tossed to the wayside … Zim on top of him with their bodies entwined … Dib with his face up between Zim’s thighs —

“Five minutes and counting,” the Computer said, and Dib could feel Zim finally release his stranglehold on his memories. He leaned back against the table, feeling flushed and breathless and a little woozy. 

“_ Ask him to sing something, _” PAK-Zim said softly. His presence in Dib’s mind felt worn out and melancholy. 

“What?” Dib asked, still getting a handle on where and when he was.

“_ It’s a good way to see how far along things are … _” 

“Alright … Hey,” he said softly, trying to get Zim’s attention. Or his body’s attention? Dib wasn’t quite sure which it was quite yet. He … or it? … looked up, seeming to have some trouble focusing on Dib’s face. 

“Hey … can … can you sing something for me?” Dib asked, feeling awkward. “Like … I dunno. We did _ Head Over Feet _last night. Sing that one.”

The Zim in front of him swayed a little and hummed the notes a moment. “_ I had no choice but to hear you _ ,” he sang, shockingly on-key. “ _ You stated your case time and _ … a … Something? … fuck … uhhh … I had it just a second ago … _ I couldn't help it, it's all your _ … something … ugh, what’s the next part?”

“Jesus, it’s like watching a lobotomy,” Dib said under his breath, horrified. 

“_ He’s not going to even recognize you in a moment _,” PAK-Zim told him.

“Four minutes,” the Computer announced.

“Hey, buddy,” Dib said gently, snapping his fingers. Zim’s body looked up but its eyes seemed unfocused. “Up here. There we go ... You still with me?”

“Still … with you … _ ow _ … fuck, my head hurts …” it said, looking around blearily. “How long … you keeping that? You know I need it … to do … thinky stuff …”

“_ Oh, that is just pathetic, _” PAK-Zim grumbled as his body’s eyes crossed and it struggled to hold its head up. It slumped onto the floor, breathing heavily.

“How many systems does the PAK control?” Dib asked, feeling intensely uncomfortable. He wanted to keep Zim talking so that he didn’t have to focus on the Irken having a near death experience on the floor a few feet away. 

“_ Everything. Life support. Memory. Language translation. Processing visual input from the ocular implants. You name it, the PAK processes it. _”

“Love?” Dib asked softly.

“_ What about it? _”

“You. In my head. Do you love me?”

“_ Right now I think you’re being a little shit. _”

“Yeah, well, fuck you, too. I’m not real pleased with you either,” Dib grumbled. “But I still love you and care about you, even if we’re fighting right now.”

“Three minutes!” the Computer warned them. 

“_ Why are we still doing that? _” PAK-Zim asked, and Dib wasn’t sure if the question was aimed at him or rhetorical. 

Dib felt the memories of the past morning swirl through his brain. His irritability at being woken up at 7:30 in the morning and then his subsequent worry for Zim. His concern that Zim was stressing himself out and putting himself in harm’s way for what Dib saw as an extreme edge case scenario. 

Zim’s frustration crescendoed for a brief moment before fear bubbled over and suddenly Dib was standing, handcuffed, in a dimly lit chamber. He could feel the crowd gathered to watch what he inherently knew was an Existence Evaluation. In front of him, the Control Brains glowed ominously and to his right stood Tallest Red and Tallest Purple.

Dib was aware that he wasn’t just experiencing this memory through Zim’s eyes, but also through his mind. And Zim’s mind at that point in time was a chaotic place to be. The cognitive dissonance alone made Dib feel like he was being split in two.

“_ Our ruling, _ ” boomed the Brains, dragging Dib out of his identity crisis and back into the memory. “ _ Irken Zim's ID PAK is damaged and has led to a corrupt data path. He is … a Defective. _”

Dib felt his stomach drop and his heart race as Red and Purple high-fived off to the side. How could his Tallest abandon him to this fate?? How could they discard him like garbage after everything he had done for them??

Dib knew that Zim had been nothing but trouble to his leaders, but this information flew in the face of what the Zim from this memory would accept as fact. The result on Dib’s end was a throbbing headache and growing uncertainty over what he had momentarily held to be true. Was Zim’s mission really a cruel joke played by his frustrated leaders? No … _ no _ … he had done so much for them and the glory of the Irken Empire as a whole. He was their _ best _ Invader! They sent him to Earth because he was the only one up to the task. Not to _ get rid of him … _ that was unthinkable.

“_ Irken Zim's data is not allowed into the collective. His PAK will be removed and erased. _”

The information filtered through is brain slowly. His PAK … he needed that to live! He needed that to be _ him! _

Dib abruptly found himself back in his body and had to hold on to the table to make the room stop spinning.

“_ It’s not an edge case, Dib _ ,” PAK-Zim said gravely. “ _ Do you see why I’m so worked up over the possibility of having to go through that all over again? _”

“Ugh, you’re giving me a headache,” Dib moaned, rubbing his temples. “And I don’t feel so good …”

“Remember … ten minutes with this on kills you and ten minutes without it kills me. You’re going to feel a whole lot worse if you don’t keep one eye on the clock from here forward.”

“One minute and thirty seconds!” the computer piped up suddenly. It had decided that announcing on the minute was boring and it wanted to spice things up. 

“_ Go see if my body even recognizes you _ ,” PAK-Zim said of the Irken rolling uselessly on the floor. “ _ It’s been more than long enough. I’ll be shocked if you even get a response to my name. _”

“Zim?” Dib called, walking over slowly and watching Zim’s body with extreme trepidation.

“I am … _ I … am … Zim … _” it wheezed. Dib had the distinct sensation of PAK-Zim perking his antennae in shock. 

“_ Well _ ** _that’s_ ** _ a surprise, _” PAK-Zim said, and Dib felt the unease sweep across his words.

Dib stood over Zim’s body and met its unfocused gaze.

“P … PAK …” it stuttered up at him desperately. 

“Do you know who I am, Zim?” Dib asked softly. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. The whole thing was so much worse than he had ever imagined. It was uncomfortable and awkward and skeevy and Dib wanted to up and leave and never speak of this whole ill-fated experiment ever again. Nonetheless, he crouched down next to Zim’s discarded body and waited while it tried to lock on to his face, eyes unfocused and almost cloudy. "Do you recognize me at all?"

He was shocked when it reached out for his hand and smiled lovingly up at him. “You’re … _ my _ Dib …”

Dib’s eyes grew wide and his insides turned to ice.

“Uh. Zim?” he squeaked out in a panic.

“_ Right here with you _,” PAK-Zim said, concern swirling like a miasma around his presence.

“Forty-five seconds!” the computer said cheerily.

“_ We’ve seen enough; put me back _,” PAK-Zim commanded.

“No, no, give me a second,” Dib said hastily. He looked into the eyes of Zim’s rapidly fading body. “_ Who are you? _”

“_ Dib. I’m serious. We _ ** _do not_ ** _ have time for this. _”

Dib felt Zim attempt to deploy the PAK legs and easily batted away his efforts.

Zim’s body smiled up at him stupidly. “_ Zim _, silly … you … don’t … recognize …?”

Dib squeezed his hand. “No no … I do. _ I do _ … ”

“Twenty-five seconds!” the computer chirped.

“** _DIB_ ** _ !! Put me back!! _” PAK-Zim screeched, thrashing about in Dib’s brain, trying desperately to deploy any of the PAK's hardware or gain control of Dib’s limbs but unlike when he was rifling through Dib's memories, Dib easily shut him out.

“Do you love me?” Dib asked, soft but desperate, ignoring the absolute din in his head as best he could.

“** _I’M_ ** _ sure the fuck not going to love you anymore if you keep this up! Put me _ ** _BACK, DIB!!! Zim commands it!!!_ **”

“Ten seconds!” 

Zim’s hand shook in Dib’s and his breath came in gasps. He nodded weakly but his eyes conveyed undeniable and overwhelming love that made Dib’s heart nearly stop. “... Love … you …”

“Fiiiiiive secoooooooonds!” the computer sang as PAK-Zim shouted, “** _Oh this is FUCKING BULLSHIT!_ **”

The PAK abruptly disconnected from Dib’s back and dropped to the ground with a loud clang before reaching out to reconnect with Zim’s body. He came up gasping like a fish as a gong sounded and the computer shouted “ZERO!!!!” with inappropriate glee, flashing confetti on the screen. 

“You … _ fucking IDIOT! _” Zim shouted, still shaking and breathing hard.

“Yelling …” Dib warned, scurrying back as Zim swiped for his arm. 

“_No!_ _You_ don’t _get_ to tell me not to yell! Not after that!” He stumbled to his feet, looking more feral than Dib had thought possible. He angrily took a step towards Dib and Dib hurriedly backed up. “Not after you _almost got both of us killed!_ And for _what_? So you could play 20 Questions with _my dying body_?” 

He had Dib pressed against a wall now.

“Your brain _ works, _ Zim!!” Dib countered desperately as Zim closed the remaining distance between them. “It works without your PAK!”

“Okay, and _ that _ changes … _ WHAT, exactly? _” Zim screeched.

Dib had never in his life seen Zim look so completely unhinged. He flinched back as spit flew in his face. 

“_ Unlike _ the fact that you did _ THIS— _”

Zim slammed Dib against the wall with his shoulder and reached for his waist. Dib cowered as Zim yanked the waistband of his jeans down to reveal his handiwork.

“— _ specifically _ to hurt me as much as possible!” He shoved Dib back against the wall with a heavy _thump_. “ _ How _ ** _dare_ ** _ you?? _ After I worked _ so hard _ to put you back together?? After I chased you down and _ rescued you? _ After I trusted you and _ gave you all of myself _ ?? You choose the _ one thing _ that you _ know _ will _ absolutely wreck me _ ??” He slammed his fist against the wall, frighteningly close to Dib's head. “ _ I gave up _ ** _everything _ ** _ for you, Dib! _ And _ this _ is how you repay me??”

Dib slid down the wall and put his hands over his ears, shaking his head and looking up at Zim with wide eyes.

“I was _ wrong _, Zim … it was wrong of me! I’m sorry!”

Confused and ashamed and terrified out of his mind, Dib curled in on himself and waited for … he wasn’t quite sure. The beating of his life? More yelling?

“What the _ fuck _ were you thinking, Dib?!” Zim shrieked from above him.

Dib just cowered and groveled.

“I wish I could take it back, Zim! I’m sorry!” he wailed, shaking with fear. “I’m sorry! _ Please!! I’m sorry! _”

Zim watched as Dib trembled below him and felt his anger freezing over as he suddenly realized he had crossed a line quite a ways back. Remorse immediately weighed down on his shoulders.

No yelling. No physical violence. He had broken both of their ground rules.

“Please! … _ please _ … I’m sorry …”

“Oh, fuck …” Zim took several panicked steps backwards. He looked towards the door and contemplated going upstairs until the world stopped spinning and he could form a coherent sentence and look Dib in the eyes without feeling horrified.

“Please don’t leave me,” Dib begged. “_ Please … _I’m sorry …”

Zim turned to see Dib staring up at him in a panic.

“I’m not … going to leave you,” Zim whispered, unmoving. “I just … I shouldn’t have … I fucked up really badly just now … and I don’t know …” 

Zim watched a shiver shake Dib’s body and cautiously went to retrieve Dib’s shirt and hoodie. He wordlessly handed them over and crouched in front of Dib, balanced on the balls of his feet, unsure of how to proceed. Dib pulled his clothes back on and leaned back against the wall, eyes downcast. His body language radiated hurt and nervousness.

“I’m sorry,” Zim said, barely audible. “I don’t know what just happened and I don’t know how to fix it.” He looked away and then cautiously back again as Dib resolutely kept his gaze on the floor. Zim rolled to his heels and sat down. “I don’t really know what’s been going on all day.”

More than the times Dib had spontaneously burst into tears, this nervous silence frightened him. He frantically searched for something, _anything_ to say that might bridge the yawning gap between them. 

“My mind keeps going back to my Existence Evaluation,” he whispered, voice high and tenuous. “I never really gave myself the time or space to process everything. The knowledge that I was declared defective has been eating me alive for so long but I never actually faced it head on. But now I can’t escape it and …”

He looked up, watching as Dib bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep his emotions in check.

“Earlier … when the program told me I was defective?" Zim continued. "For a moment … just for a moment, I was right back there on Judgementia. I didn’t feel like I was sitting in this lab. When I woke up on the floor, the only thing that grounded me to the here and now was your voice.” He dragged his finger along the pattern on the corrugated steel floor. “I think your self harm episode may have touched on some trust issues I have, too.” His shoulders dropped and he rested his chin on his knees, looking away. “You’re all I’ve got, Dib. In a _ lifetime _ of people who have lied to me and tried to hurt me … I don’t need that from you, too. I’m … not even mad. _Really_.”

His voice sounded choked and he hated it. His vision swam and he closed his eyes.

“I’m not mad _ at you _ . It just hurts to be reminded of all the ways my trust has been violated. It hurts to be broken and it hurts to have to face that brokenness. Because I don’t know _ how to _ and I’m afraid it’s just going to swallow me whole …”

Zim leaned his forehead against his knees, watching tears drip down and splash against the floor. He wanted to curl into himself until he winked out of existence. He had never felt more small or vulnerable or ridiculous in his entire life. He was so good at feeling a litany of things and so bad at dealing with any of them.

Over the buzzing in his head, he heard Dib shift and suddenly he was wrapped in a tight hug. Dib didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. The action alone spoke volumes. Zim pressed his face against Dib’s chest and hugged him back. 

“I could never leave you, Dib …” he said, muffled. “I need you too much. It’s not fair to you … I know …”

“It’s okay,” Dib said softly.

Zim sniffled. “I’m sorry I yelled and pushed you … I broke both our ground rules …” 

“I broke rules, too, Zim. We’re even.”

“That doesn’t make it any better or any more okay … How do I make things right with you?”

Dib sighed, wrapping his arms more tightly around Zim's body. “You’re already forgiven. It’s okay.”

Zimo peered up cautiously. “Just like that? Unconditionally?”

“Yeah, that’s … usually how forgiveness works. Besides,” he said, gently coaxing Zim into his lap, “I need you, too. A lot. Maybe too much.”

Zim leaned back against him, silent and lost in thought. Wrapped up in Dib’s arms, he finally felt like things might end up alright. 

“It’s okay to still have trauma,” Dib said gently. “I’m sorry for triggering you. I shouldn’t have called you insane and … I’m really sorry for violating your trust. I don’t even have the words to apologize for doing it maliciously. It was shitty and manipulative and I’m disgusted with myself over it.” Zim was leaning sideways in his lap, head resting back against his shoulder. Dib looked down at him. “I’m … look, this is no excuse, okay? I want to make that clear, because there’s no excuse in existence for what I did. I’ve just never had a situation where I could just … sit down and talk with someone like this. Usually, I feel hurt and the only option I have is to retaliate.”

Zim patted his arm comfortingly. “It’s okay for you to still have trauma, too, Dib.”

Dib nodded sadly, staring off at nothing.

“Do you think we’ll ever learn to be … functional people?” he asked quietly. “Like, I just thought … maybe ... ugh, it’s stupid,” he groaned.

“Quit saying that. I’d rather hear what you’re thinking. Not a mind reader, remember?”

“I don’t know if it would be better or worse if you were,” Dib said with a grimace. “I just kind of thought that after … we … ya know … last night … ” He gave Zim a sideways glance.

“What? The … coupling?” Zim asked, confused.

“I like your phrasing better than how I was gonna put it,” Dib replied, his face going red.

_ ‘After we fucked each other’s brains out’ _definitely felt at least a touch uncouth.

“I just felt so close to you, afterwards. And you felt the same and somehow I just thought … _ ‘This is it. Everything is fixed forever and it’ll be simple from here forward.’ _ And then today was so awful …”

“Well,” Zim said, looking guilty, “I did wake you up at 2am to drag you to the shower and then again at the break of dawn to panic at you. I’m sure that didn’t help … And I’ve been keyed up all day, on top of it.”

“I guess … maybe I thought that sex would be a silver bullet,” Dib said with a sigh. “I think all it did was make me needier.”

“I’m okay with you needing me. It’s kind of nice to be needed.” He pressed his head against Dib’s chest and spent a moment listening to his heartbeat. “Should we revise our ground rules? I think we need to take into account your self harm issues and our mutual … volume control problems.”

“Yeah, something's got to give ... what were you thinking?"

“I can’t let you just run off next time,” Zim said, sounding concerned. His hand was resting on Dib’s arm and he traced nervous little spirals up and down it. “So when we fight, we’re just going to have to talk through it. No one gets to walk away angry.”

“So where do things stand with the yelling?”

“That’s … harder. I don’t like the idea of screaming matches.”

“I don’t either.”

“But we both operate at a pretty high volume.”

“But would you say we’re on the same frequency?”

Zim looked up to see Dib giving him a massive grin. Relief washed over him; if Dib was making terrible jokes again, that was a good sign. 

“You’re terrible and you should feel bad about that one,” Zim said with a playful glare. “Let’s see how things go without a volume limitation, for now.”

Dib nodded. “I’m putting the kibosh on physical violence still, though.”

“Yeah … I’m sorry about that.”

“It wasn’t like it was totally undeserved …” Dib said under his breath.

“Dib … It was wrong and I’m sorry. I was in your head. I knew you felt miserable about it.”

Dib suddenly gave him a nervous glance. “About that … Are we going to talk about that just happened?”

“Which part?”

“All of it? I think there are some … unexpected implications.”

Zim shook his head, feeling at a loss. “It freaked me out, Dib,” he whispered. “That kind of recognition and emotional reaction … it shouldn’t have happened. The physical brain should retain enough information to locate and reunite with the PAK, but it’s a race against the clock and after 5 minutes, you lose so much cognitive function that you’re lucky to have a stable sense of self.”

“I’m still not clear on how this whole thing is supposed to work … what with you having a physical brain and a PAK brain.”

“I think I already mentioned that PAKs use the biological brain as an interface. Because of that, the biological brain never really develops on its own,” Zim explained. “That’s why I was saying that there would be nobody in there … _ there shouldn’t be _ because a separate consciousness should never get a chance to develop. So the fact that my body not only retained a strong sense of self but also _ identified you _ and felt _ emotions _ based on that recognition …” He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be possible. The biological brain is not supposed to be learning and developing and _ feeling things _.”

“It didn’t even seem separate, though,” Dib pointed out. “It seemed like you, still. Just … a you with more emotions.”

“Either way, that was still more functional than any Irken should be that long into being separated from their PAK.”

Dib thought for a moment. “I was able to override you when you tried to use my body and the PAK legs.”

“Yeah … That was not my finest moment …”

“No, what I’m saying is … maybe your PAK can’t block out biological feedback. And that manifests as my consciousness being able to override yours, and you feeling emotions that are originating from your biological brain.”

Zim looked at once curious and a little disturbed. “I’ve had a theory for a while that my feelings for you might be related to my being Defective,” Zim said quietly. “And if you’re right … then we can’t keep fucking around in my head. Or my PAK. Or whatever. I don’t want to lose this. I’d rather just … stay Defective, in that case.”

“You just operate differently than other Irkens, Zim,” Dib replied gently. “They can call that ‘Defective’ all they want, but I don’t see it that way. You’re an anomaly, sure … for a litany of reasons. But you’re perfect. And you’re just as sane as I am,” he added with a small smile. “At any rate … it looks like we might need a new plan.”

“Let’s cool it on plans for tonight,” Zim said. “I’d rather make food and sleep a priority. Tomorrow is a big day, after all.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Dib groaned.

Zim looked up at him. “The other kids will be nice or they will face my wrath, and your father will accept you or we’ll run off to a distant star system.”

“Let’s skip right to that last part.”

“Humans need degrees, Dib. We’re so close to graduation. I’m not letting you bail unless we have no other option.”

Dib hugged him close.

“We’re going to be alright, Dib,” Zim said softly. “Tomorrow, next week, several years from now … We’ll find a way to be okay.”

“Promise?” Dib whispered, anxiety threatening to drown him. 

“I promise we’ll be alright and I promise I will be with you every step of the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I go back and forth between over-explaining and hand-waving things. How can Dib understand Zim's code? It's been translated into an earth programming language and compiles down to an Irken one. Zim's culturally sensitive like that. At least for Dib.
> 
> I also struggled with writing this chapter, as a professional programmer ... but like my inner astronomer and physicist, I have to lock those bits away and remind myself that this is SOFT sci-fi and that's FINE.
> 
> Someone is inevitably thinking that Dib carving Zim's name into himself is too weirdly specific for me to have just come up with it on my own ... that would be correct. I know someone who actually did that and all I can say is ... please don't. Don't retaliate against your loved ones in general. But specifically please do not ever retaliate by means of self-harm. It's extra shitty.
> 
> Writing this chapter was emotionally draining.


	13. Secrets & Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib and Zim face down their first day being out at school. Dib finally tells Zim what happened to him last time he was left to fend for himself while Zim was away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some plot-relevant content that may be triggering. I've put the content warning at the bottom, so please jump down there if you have concerns.
> 
> This chapter also contains smut at the end. Easily skippable (I hope!) if that is not your thing.  
*********************************************  
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_ Walk like a ghost  
Let your feet off the ground  
Heart needs sound  
Sound is love, love is you _

[ \- Brick+Mortar,  _ Bangs _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwnGHnT66lQ)

* * *

_ I. _

“Dib … wake up. You’ve hit snooze three times already.”

He was wildly aware of this already. And each time, the first thought in his mind was that there was no hiding his relationship anymore. He wanted to retreat back to a dreamless sleep where that knowledge lay dormant like a massive, sleeping beast, just below the reaches of the harsh light that was his conscious mind.

“Don’t make me dump you in the shower,” Zim warned.

Dib whined and rolled over.

… Completely forgetting that he’d spent the night snuggled up with Zim on the couch at the base. His startled shriek was cut short when he bellyflopped onto the floor.

“Awake now?” Zim couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice as Dib lay there in a tangled heap of blankets.

“No … I’m just gonna stay here all day,” Dib mumbled with his cheek pressed against the floor.

“Dib …” Zim’s patience was running thin. If he had to carry Dib to school himself, he absolutely would.

“I’m a legal adult and you can’t make me go.”

“You won’t go to school, but you  _ will  _ sulk on the living room floor all day,” Zim commented dryly. “How very  _ adult of you _ .”

Dib resolutely stayed still and quiet, the silence stretching on long enough that Zim felt himself wilt slightly.

“... Are you ashamed of me?” Zim asked quietly, all mirth gone from his voice.

Dib sat up, turned, and leaned his head back into Zim’s lap. “No … I’m just not looking forward to being stared at all day,” he said darkly. “I’ve gotten used to flying under the radar.”

“I can give you space at school if it’s easier,” Zim replied gently as he played with Dib’s hair. It was an absolute mess of untamed cowlicks swooping in whatever direction they damn well pleased.

Dib looked up, meeting Zim’s gaze as they both tried to read each other’s expression.

“No … I need you right now,” Dib whispered, looking a little embarrassed. 

Zim leaned down and kissed him, enjoying the novelty of kissing upside down. He loved listening to Dib’s heart race under his ribs as his breathing grew deeper and louder. It struck Zim that the human body was deafening when it was in love.

“Okay, now I  _ really  _ need you …” Dib mumbled as Zim’s tongue slid from his mouth. Zim gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“No time. We’re going to need to dash soon.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself in the shower …” Dib said, clearly trying to coerce Zim into helping him out.

“Lucky you, that gives me time to make you a pop tart  _ and  _ coffee!” Zim chirped, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he slid from the couch. Dib grumbled, but shuffled his way towards the shower.

_Good_. Zim finally had time to think.

He wandered into the kitchen and rifled around for the box of pop tarts he knew was around somewhere. And it probably wasn’t even expired. 

His mind wandered back to the issue at hand. He put on a brave face for Dib, but he had legitimate concerns about his partner’s safety. Dib was right about flying just under the radar; once he’d learned to shut up about his monster hunting excursions and stopped reacting to the various insults slung his way, he’d been mostly left alone. Really, the only one who had antagonized him in the past few months was _Zim_. But if other people suddenly started paying attention again … Zim wasn’t quite sure  _ what  _ they'd do. It was as likely that they’d simply shrug it off and leave him alone as it was that they’d use this as yet another reason to torment him.

The toaster dinged and catapulted its contents a solid foot in the air. Zim gingerly retrieved their breakfast, then went to look for the tin of instant coffee that was definitely … somewhere. He’d learned that instant coffee plus half a dozen or so sugar cubes was passably sweet and strong enough to extend the length of time he could go without sleep, and had stocked up on a dozen or so tins a while back. He finally found part of his stash behind a few orphaned spaghetti o’s cans and got to work. 

Zim tried to recall the last time anyone had given Dib trouble, and realized with a sudden sinking sensation that it had been the day he came back from Vort, only to find Dib disheveled and sobbing in the greenhouse, a fresh bruise pooling under his eye. Zim had tried only once to get the story out of him, but backed off when Dib got shockingly hostile over it. Zim had to kick himself a little, thinking back to the day he’d snuck Dib out to go watch aquatic earth creatures swim laps around their enclosures. How he’d been determined to make Dib smile at least once by the end of the day. The way he’d watched Dib’s hands, wondering what it would feel like to press their palms together. And yet, he’d somehow managed to convince himself that he didn’t have feelings for Dib at all for so long.

More than wanting to knock some sense into his past self, however, he desperately wanted to know what had happened to Dib that day, and who was responsible. Dib had weathered years of abuse from various sources, but Zim had never seen him look so utterly broken as he had then. In that moment, Zim would have paid good monies for five minutes alone with whoever was responsible for hurting his Dib.

_ Crunch _ . 

Zim looked down and realized he’d crushed the coffee tin in his anger.

“Whoa, Zim, what did breakfast ever do to you?” Dib asked, strolling in and looking much like someone who had gotten very well-acquainted with their own hand in the past 5 minutes.

Zim very nearly demanded the details of Dib’s last assault, but stopped himself. Dib looked to be in much better spirits as he munched away on his pop tart, leaning against the counter.

“Err … my hand twitched,” Zim mumbled, looking away and trying to force the lid back on the crumpled container. He gestured with an antenna. “That mug is yours.”

Dib grabbed it without looking, took a gulp, paused, and slowly inspected the contents with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you … uhh … remember to actually put coffee in this?” Dib asked skeptically.

Zim gave him a withering look and pushed the mangled coffee tin into his hand. “I never know what tastes good to your human tongue,” he mumbled, grabbing his own mug and chugging it so he had an excuse to look away. 

He was aware of Dib’s eyes on him as he turned to set his empty mug in the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Dib asked, peering at him with palpable concern.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Zim replied, slightly too fast and a touch too defensively.

Dib reached over Zim’s shoulder to set his cup in the sink, then wrapped his arms around Zim. “You’re almost as terrible a liar as I am,” he said, leaning down to kiss Zim’s cheek. 

“I just need you to promise you’ll stick close to me today,” Zim said softly.

“Oh?”

“Gaz made me promise not to let you out of my sight today. If anything happened, she’d definitely kill me. I have a vested interest in that  _ not  _ happening.”

“As if I’d willingly let myself be separated from you,” Dib said with a smile, hugging Zim tight.

“Good,” Zim replied, grabbing his pop tart. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

“Now you’re sounding negative about things,” Dib said, concerned.

“It’s just residual stress,” Zim assured him. “And you know how much I hate our classmates.”

“We can definitely commiserate there.”

_ Can we though? _ Zim glanced at Dib. As much as his boyfriend wore his heart on his sleeve, he was still fully capable of compartmentalizing anything he didn’t want to deal with. All Zim could do was stick close to his side and make his best attempt at protecting Dib from the world and all the things that wanted to hurt him. 

_ II. _

By the time they reached the school, all Dib’s bravado seemed to have drained away.

“I don’t feel so great … maybe I should have stayed home,” he mumbled, resting his head against the steering wheel. Zim reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. 

“You can do this, Dib. I’ll be with you the whole day.” Zim kissed his hand and smiled. “Aren’t you glad we’ve got all the same classes?”

Dib looked up and gave him a thin attempt at a smile. “Yeah. Certainly never thought I’d say that.”

Zim managed to coax him out of the car and offered a hand. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he insisted, but Dib took his hand, grateful that Zim’s slightly passé fingerless gloves meant he couldn’t feel how badly Dib’s hands were sweating.

They dashed into the building and made it to class just before the bell rang, taking a pair of seats in the back of the classroom. Dib stuffed his bag under his seat, reaching his hand up to place it on Zim’s shoulder in front of him. When he looked up, half the class was staring at them. His heart rocketed into his throat as hushed tones ran together in a soft rumble that rippled around the room.

_ “Shit, how hard did he hit Zim last week??” _

_ “Do you think he threatened him?” _

_ “I fucking knew it! You owe me $20.” _

_ “Pfft ... They won’t make it to the end of the day …” _

_ “I guess there really is someone for everybody?” _

“Dib? Hey … look at me … Dib!” Zim snapped his fingers in front of Dib’s face. Dib turned to him, wide-eyed and hyperventilating. Zim put his hands on either side of Dib’s face. “Nope … no passing out. Breathe with me … come on …”

Dib’s eyes flicked over Zim’s shoulder.

“Eyes on me, human. They don’t matter.”

Dib focused on Zim’s purple irises until they filled his vision, trying to take measured breaths. His ears were ringing too much to tell if people were still talking about them.

Their teacher finally burst through the door, looking harried and frazzled, mercifully stealing all of the attention that had previously been on the odd couple sitting in the back.

“Everyone sure is sounding awake this morning!”

That was certainly one way of putting things, Dib thought. He sunk back against his chair, grateful to have most of the eyes off him. Zim patted his arm reassuringly.

“You’re doing great, Dib.” Zim reached his hand backwards under Dib’s desk, tapping his leg to get his attention. Dib took his hand and held it tight for the rest of class, writing some half-hearted notes and taking solace in the way Zim rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb. By the time the bell rang and everyone shuffled out, Dib had mostly centered himself once more.

“That could have been worse,” Dib said as he started packing up. “If that’s as bad as things get, I think I can—”

A shadow fell over his desk and he quickly looked up. Keef was standing nervously a few feet away.

“Hey … um … I just wanted to tell you guys not to listen to any of those idiots,” Keef said, fidgeting. He put a hand on Zim’s left shoulder and Zim somehow managed to move the entire rest of his body several inches to the right. Zim’s visceral discomfort seemed to fly right under Keef’s radar. “You seem great together and I hope you’re really happy!”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Dib said, at a complete loss. “Nice to know someone is in our court.”

He watched as Keef finally released Zim’s shoulder and Zim took a step backwards out of his reach.

“Well, see you guys around?”

“... Sure,” Zim said as Keef made his way out of the classroom while Dib just waved awkwardly. “... Can’t really avoid it, seeing as we have more than half our classes together. But nice of him to ask.”

Once they were alone, Dib stifled a laugh, “Zim … oh my god …”

“I know, right?” Zim said, one eyebrow raised. “The fuck was that??”

“_Pfft_ … you didn’t notice?”

Zim tilted his head, not following. “Eh? Notice what?”

“He has a crush on you!”

Zim looked moderately alarmed. “What?? Oh, hell no!”

“Oh, he absolutely does.” 

“Well, too bad!” Zim sputtered. “I’ve already got a human and you’re more than enough trouble!”

Dib pulled on his backpack and took Zim’s hand. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“What, that you’re trouble?” Zim asked with a smirk as they ambled out into the crowded hallway. "Because I can tell you that _way_ more often, if that's what you want."

Dib suddenly stopped short, causing Zim to nearly trip over himself.

“Oh fuck, I left my homework in my locker!” Dib groaned. 

“I can come back with you,” Zim offered. 

“Nah, I’ll be quick. You just save me a seat behind you again so I can picture what I’m gonna do to you after school,” Dib said, handing Zim his backpack and giving him a chaste little cheek kiss.

If Zim had eyebrows, they would have jumped clear out of view. “From  _ behind _ , you say …”

Dib took a few steps back and kissed his hand before letting it go. “I’ll let you dwell on that, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

He turned and fought his way upstream. Luckily, the crowds of students were thinning out and he had an unobstructed path to his locker in no time. He sprinted into the next wing, screeching to a halt in front of his locker. Maybe if he was in a little less of a rush, or his mind were a little less focused on how lucky he felt to have Zim, or his nerves were a little less frazzled from the dozen or so panic attacks he’d had that morning, he would have heard the stairwell door swing open and footsteps quickly approach.

“So I hear someone has a new boyfriend. ”

Great. There was a voice Dib hadn’t heard in a while. 

Harvard "Harvey" Richard. Dib had to assume that half the kid's attitude problem came from being named "Harvard" while being lucky to gain acceptance at even community college. He had transferred in during their freshman year, already a solid year or two older than the rest of the class at 16. The running rumour was that he’d been expelled from a number of schools over the years, which ended in him repeating several grades. Dib kept hoping the day would come when Harvey was blackballed from this school system as well, but it seemed he had learned to target the kids no one listened to. Dib was tangentially aware that both Keef and Gretchen had targets on their backs, too, and had never spoken up.

Dib turned around slowly. He was not at all in the mood to deal with a confrontation. “What the ever-loving  _ fuck _ do you want?” he asked, hostile.

Harvey leaned against the wall, looking casual. But Dib was well aware that he was blocking his escape from this wing of the building. “I saw how happy you and that weird foreign kid looked, and it made me think that maybe you got off a little too easy in the past year,” Harvey said with a predatory smirk. “Everyone else might have forgotten what a freak you are, but I didn’t.”

“Good for you,” Dib snarled sarcastically. “We can cut this short then because I haven’t forgotten, either. Would you just leave me the fuck alone already?”

“Why? Boyfriend gonna get worried or something?” Harvey took a step forward. The shrinking distance between them immediately sent Dib into high alert.

“ _ Yes _ , actually,” he said, edging away. “You  _ really _ don’t want to make Zim mad. Believe me.”

“Oh, that’s half the fun, though!”

“See, you might  _ think _ that, but Zim’s got no qualms about pulling your spleen out through your ears,” Dib warned, still trying to slowly put distance between himself and the obscenely burly linebacker. He glanced sideways. He had just enough space that maybe, if he moved fast enough —

He vaulted forwards, but was abruptly slammed sideways out of the air and into the lockers.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” Harvey hissed, muffled in Dib’s ringing ears. “Especially when your boyfriend isn’t here to—”

Dib flinched back as a well-timed backpack clipped the tip of his nose as it smashed into Harvey’s jaw, sending him flying sideways. He hit the floor with a rather satisfying  _ thwack  _ and slid for several meters. A bright red streak marred the cheap tile behind him.

Dib was still in complete shock, shaking with his back against the lockers. Something in the back of his brain screamed at him to run, but he’d forgotten how to make his legs move. 

Fight.

Flight.

_ Freeze.  _

Dib really thought that his long standing rivalry with Zim would have put him solidly in the “fight” camp, but here he was, rooted to the spot as time flowed slowly around him. How was it that he couldn’t even sprint in the opposite direction? 

He barely had time to process the proceeding second before his legs were whisked up from the floor and he was abruptly carried off. A second shot of adrenaline hit his bloodstream and his stupor finally lifted. He frantically kicked out, trying to get loose.

“It’s me, dummy!” Zim whispered sharply, holding him closer. “Stay still — I’ve got you.”

Dib let the world around him fade out a bit as he trembled against Zim’s chest. He was vaguely aware of Zim coming to a stop and rapidly attempting to unlock a door, cursing under his breath in a rapid series of trills and chirps. He finally succeeded and darted inside, dead bolting the door and setting Dib down a ways from the entrance. He crouched down, hands on the back of Dib’s head, looking him over. His face was a fluctuating mixture of rage and concern.

“Did he hurt you?” Zim demanded.

“Not badly …” Dib mumbled, eyes unfocused. He wanted to forget everything already but Zim wanted answers.

“ _ What the hell happened? _ ” Zim asked, brushing Dib’s bangs out of his face. Dib tried to look away but Zim cupped his chin in his hands, forcing Dib to look up at him. “Dib? Please … just tell me what the fuck I walked in on.”

Dib jerked his head back and shook his hair from his face. “What does it look like? Fucking bastard cornered me while I was alone,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

“Because of me?” Zim asked, concerned.

Dib chewed his lip. “... Tangentially,” he said, finally. “Apparently I was looking too happy.”

“What the hell does he care?” Zim demanded. 

Dib closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Zim slipped their hands together, giving Dib a reassuring squeeze. Dib’s hands were cold and damp.

“What’s wrong?” Zim asked softly. “You’re not telling me something.”

“Do you remember the day you found me in here?” Dib asked hoarsely. “After you’d been gone all week?”

Zim looked taken aback by the question. “Yes …” he replied slowly, the sinking feeling in his splooch telling him he knew what was coming. Now that he was about to get answers, he suddenly felt unprepared for whatever knowledge Dib was about to impart. 

Dib gave a humourless laugh as he stared past rows of plant shelves. “It’s funny because I can vividly recall you coming in and sitting in front of me, looking all horrified at the state of my face … but … I only remember bits and pieces about how I ended up with a black eye … ” He gave Zim a vulnerable look, then pulled him into his lap. “I need you close if I’m gonna actually tell you this …”

Zim wrapped his arms around Dib’s neck. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard,” he said as Dib rested his head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll respect your trauma.”

“I need to tell someone,” Dib said, though he didn’t sound so sure. “I don’t want to keep this from you anymore. And I can’t keep dealing with it on my own.” He took a shaky breath as Zim pet his hair to calm him down. “I was … late to class, I guess? I don’t really remember why. But I was the only one out in the halls and I … I wasn’t paying attention and I got jumped by Harvey. I remember that he dragged me off and then punched me when I tried to fight back … ”

“I should have been there.” Zim was kicking himself internally for ever having left Dib alone to fend for himself. “I knew that bad things happened to you when I wasn’t around and I still just … took off.”

“We were hardly even close, then, Zim,” Dib whispered morosely. “I don’t blame you. Besides, you were taking care of important things …”

“So I thought!” Zim chirped frantically. “But it didn’t amount to anything. If I could go back and tell myself what choice to make, I’d tell myself to stay here because the code won’t fix anything and being Defective is worth it to be in love with you.” He could tell that Dib was trying hard not to cry, so he hugged his human tightly.

“I need you to promise you won’t hold yourself accountable for what I’m gonna tell you, okay?”

Something about the way Dib said it made Zim suddenly feel cold. “Dib …”

“Please, Zim …”

Zim looked him in the eyes, trying to read the words yet unspoken. Dib's expression was impenetrable and Zim gave in. “Okay …”

Dib took a deep breath. “This is where I don’t remember a whole lot … but I know he grabbed me and tried to … to … um …” Shit, he suddenly felt like he was going to start bawling any second. He bit down hard on his lip until he tasted blood. He _wasn’t_ going to cry over this, but he couldn’t find his voice. He leaned down and whispered five barely audible words to Zim, who immediately stiffened. 

“He tried to do  _ what? _ ” Zim seethed, white-hot anger threatening to consume him.

Dib looked small and remorseful. “I-I mean … ‘tried’ being the operative word…” he stuttered, attempting to downplay everything he had experienced. Being a bother or causing problems for Zim were the last things he wanted.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Zim hissed, getting up.

Dib grabbed at his hand. “Zim …  _ wait _ !”

“Is that what he was trying to do just now?” Zim growled, looking like he might rip the arms off the next thing that crossed his path.

“I … dunno …” Dib admitted, mouth dry. 

“_No one_ gets to hurt you, Dib. Not  _ once,  _ let alone  _ twice. _ ” Zim whirled towards the door, murder in his eyes.

Dib grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. He was certain Zim wasn’t just being hyperbolic. “Zim! You can’t do that! That’s going too far and —”

“Too far??  _ Too far?!?! _ ” Zim shouted, hysterical. “Trying to …  _ to force sex on you  _ is what’s too far!!" He put his face in his hands and let out a strangled shout of rage and frustration. " _ Goddammit _ Dib … If I’d _known_ at the time … I would have _fucking slaughtered him!!!_”

“We were still fighting on and off, Zim—”

“I …  _ what??  _ It doesn’t matter!!” Zim sputtered, pain heavy in his voice. “I wouldn’t have  _ cared _ if we were in the middle of a fight or not! We were still  _ mostly _ friends and if I had known that  _ anyone  _ had tried to hurt you like that …  _ Fuck _ ! Is  _ this _ what’s had you so worked up?? Why didn’t you tell me earlier??”

“Because when it happened … I was freaked out!” Dib said, choking up. “And … and ashamed … and I  _ still  _ am!”

“But it wasn’t your fault!” Zim said, confused and exasperated. “Why would—?”

“I don’t know, Zim! The whole thing felt awful and I just wanted to forget …” He pulled his knees to his chest and looked up at Zim, confusion and pain and disgust mixing on his face. “And … when you were sitting in front of me that first time, acting all concerned, reaching out to touch me … I was so confused because I … just wanted …” He dropped his voice low. “... I wanted you to kiss me and hold me and take me gently with my back against a shelf full of potted plants … or something,” he mumbled, tracing shapes in the dust on the floor. “I couldn’t reconcile  _ that  _ feeling with the terror I’d experienced and I felt … just  _ bad _ .  _ Wrong _ . Like …  _ how _ could I feel like that after everything that happened to me??” He took a hiccupy breath and let it out slowly. “It’s not even like it was a one-off thing … seeing as I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to have sex with you right now. What … what the fuck is  _ wrong _ with me?”

Zim suddenly looked concerned and kneeled down, taking Dib’s hands in his own. “Nothing …  _ Nothing _ is wrong with you, Dib.”

Dib looked away sadly, looking like the dam was about to burst at any moment. “Then _why_ do I feel like this?”

Zim felt like that was an awful lot for Dib to ask of him. “Well,” he started gently, “what else was going through your head that would be the same between now and then?”

Dib thought back to that day, watching Zim crouch in front of him. He’d gone from terror to … well, he could really only call it  _ relief _ . Zim was finally there. And that meant Dib was —

“Safe …” Dib whispered, slightly bewildered. “Even then, I felt safe when I was with you.”

Zim looked equally surprised. “Really? Even though we fought so much?”

Dib shrugged. “Don’t ask me to explain it. I’m as flummoxed as you are.” 

“You know … I should ask … was everything that happened between us the other night okay?” Zim asked, giving Dib a searching look. “Because I … I held you down and …”

“It was fine, Zim,” Dib said, squeezing his hands. “More than fine.”

“But —”

“It wasn’t a trigger, I promise,” Dib assured him. “I genuinely feel safe with you. I know you would never hurt me like that.”

Zim sat and leaned his head against Dib’s legs, at a loss for words for once. Dib stroked his cheek absentmindedly.

“Harvey left me alone between then and today,” Dib said, his voice low. 

“Because I kept my promise,” Zim whispered. 

“Huh?” Dib cast him a quizzical look.

“You told me to promise not to leave again. So I didn’t,” Zim said simply.

Dib was quiet while this information percolated through his brain.

“I wish I had known the full extent of what was going on,” Zim said, a touch bitter. “I would have killed him, Dib. I  _ swear _ , even if we weren’t that close yet …” The feeling of powerlessness was overwhelming. Zim rarely experienced regret, but knowing that Dib’s assault and his own absence were directly correlated made him want to beg and plead with whatever controlled the passage of time until it let him fix this one mistake. Dib deserved better. “I could  _ still _ kill him,” Zim said under his breath.

“We don’t know for sure that you  _ didn’t  _ just kill him …” Dib murmured, staring into the distance. He could still picture Harvey’s face, inches from his own, at the moment of impact. “Shit, did you grab my backpack? I don’t wanna be an accessory to murder … they’ll try me as an adult.”

Zim rested his chin on Dib’s knees. He was a little shocked that Dib hadn’t noticed him rush over to snatch the bag before they took off, or drop it once they were safely inside. Then again, Dib didn’t look like he had been taking in much of anything. “I’m not that sloppy, Dib. I picked it up after I grabbed you. And I hope the fucking filthy bastard  _ is _ dead.”

“... I kinda do, too,” Dib admitted. “Ugh … Now I kinda know how Veronica felt in  _ Heathers.  _ That’s probably _not_ something I should be relating to on a spiritual level …”

Zim was still angry enough to genuinely consider homicide to be a proportional response. Nobody was allowed to hurt his Dib like that and get away with it. 

Dib reached out to stroke Zim’s cheek, thumb moving in light circles.

“... Is it bad that I still just want to … to take you gently with your back against a shelf full of potted plants?” Dib asked softly, eyes wide and vulnerable despite his obvious attempt at humor. “I mean … It’s probably just a weird trauma response, but …”

“Would it make you feel better?” Zim asked. He held Dib’s hand to his cheek. “I just really want to make you feel better…”

“I think so … I just want to be close to you, and that’s about as close as two people can get, so …” Dib looked up, trying to read Zim’s expression.

“I want to be close to you too …”

Zim sat down beside him, leaning in close to brush his hair out of his face. “If you need me to stop, just say so,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. Dib’s lips met his, pressing softly and moving gently. Unlike Saturday night, there was no urgency, no frantic push towards the finish line; just warm bodies pressing nearer and shaking hands exploring gently. Dib was just starting to lose himself in the sound of Zim’s heavy breaths and the way Zim’s tongue danced in his mouth when Zim suddenly pulled away, a crooked smile on his face, before pulling his hat off, lifting Dib's hoodie and putting his head under it.

“Gah! What was that for??” Dib asked, bewildered.

“Cheering you up. And … I wanted to hear your heart better,” Zim replied, muffled. “Mmm … I just love how it sounds when you’re happy …”

Dib could feel Zim’s antennae dancing across his skin. “You’re  _ so  _ lucky I’m not ticklish, you weird fucking bug …”

Zim pulled the neck of Dib’s hoodie down enough to give him a miffed look. “Not a bug, Dib.”

“Definitely weird, though,” Dib said, kissing the top of his head. “Come on … get out of there.”

“ _ You  _ get out of there,” Zim countered.

Dib pulled both his hoodie and t-shirt off in one smooth motion, revealing Zim, antennae sticking straight up, sitting in his lap.

“You, too,” Dib said, pulling Zim’s top off him as well and then laying back on their discarded clothes. Zim stretched out on top of him, nuzzling under his chin and purring.

“Still feeling okay?” Zim asked, kissing up his neck.

“Yeah, still good,” Dib breathed. He wrapped his arms around Zim, enjoying how Zim rubbed against him, hands making their way from his neck to his face to his hair.

“Pants off?” Zim asked sweetly, head cocked slightly. “Only if you want to …”

Something inside Dib broke in a way he wasn’t quite expecting, abruptly sending him emotionally reeling. He abruptly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stymie the sudden waterworks that threatened to spill over. Zim immediately stopped and brushed Dib’s hair out of his face as Dib turned his head away.

“It’s okay, Dib. Your Zim’s got you,” Zim murmured, concerned and attentive. “Was it … something I said? Did I do something wrong?” With his antennae against Dib’s chest, he could hear Dib’s stuttering breaths as he attempted to speak.

“No … you did everything right, Zim …”

“Then what’s wrong?” Zim sat up and helped pull Dib into a sitting position, stroking his hair. “I’ve got you … I promise.”

“You love me and it’s overwhelming and I’m scared I’m too damaged to love you back …”

Zim pressed their cheeks together. “Don’t talk like that …”

“But I —”

Zim kissed him, wildly aware of all the tears streaming down Dib’s face. He pushed his way into Dib’s lap, never breaking contact, and wrapped his arms around Dib’s neck.

“You’re not broken,” he murmured against Dib’s lips. “No one gets to break you. I’ll make sure of it …”

Dib jumped back into the kiss with frantic abandon, quick and uncoordinated. Zim brushed a tear off Dib’s cheek and lightly stroked the corner of his mouth, prompting him to slow down.

“We’ve got time, Dib.”

Dib slowly leaned back on the ground again, his hand running along the inside of Zim’s waistband. He desperately wanted to lose himself in the feeling of their bodies sliding together so perfectly that it had to be by design. At the same time, shame was still heavy on his soul.

“I can take those off,” Zim said softly, one hand on Dib’s.

Dib nodded slowly and Zim shimmied out of his leggings, kneeling over Dib’s body so that Dib could be free of his own clothes. Dib looked down and had to take a moment to fully process the image of Zim, completely naked except for his rainbow knee-high socks. A small smirk pulled at the side of his face as he kicked his jeans off.

“Hm?” Zim gave him a quizzical look, one antenna perking higher than the other.

“... You’re cute,” Dib whispered, blushing.

Zim smiled and laid down on top of him, kissing his neck. “How do you want to do this? We have options …”

“Dunno …” Dib mumbled back, looking bashful.

Zim pressed close and kissed up his jawline. “I could take you inside me …?”

“I think I’d like that a lot …”

Zim wrapped his tentacle around the base of Dib’s cock and spiraled upwards. Dib’s eyes closed and his breathing grew louder. He put a hand on Zim’s thigh, running his thumb up and down it slowly. Zim lifted himself upwards slightly and inched Dib’s cock between his legs. There was slight trepidation in his movements as he wondered what it would be like to fully surrender his body to someone else. He pressed both their cocks against his entrance, took a deep breath, then pushed them inside. He gave a sharp gasp, and both Dib’s hands were suddenly on his hips.

“Everything alright?”

Zim nodded, leaning forwards to lie down on top of him again, their bellies pressing together in a way that made him tingle all over. He rubbed himself against Dib, using his tentacle to slide Dib’s cock in and out. He ran his toes down Dib’s leg and nuzzled against his cheek, antennae lightly touching his face before tangling in his hair. Dib put his hands on Zim’s ass, and Zim replied with a warbling chirp and a deep purr. 

“Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?” he asked close to Dib’s ear. 

Zim’s cock slowly alternated pressure, gently squeezing and releasing.

“The rubbing thing feels better for me, I think, but I thought as long as I’m doing this …” He thrust Dib’s cock in and out from between his legs a bit faster. “... it’s okay?”

Dib whimpered softly. “Better than okay …”

Zim stroked his hair, kissing his shoulders and chest and neck at random, chirping and purring and trilling under his breath. Dib’s fingers trailed up his flanks to his back, tracing around his PAK and back down to the small of his back. It occurred to Zim in some dark and quiet part of his brain, that it was  _ Dib _ who was willingly submitting to  _ him _ . The human under him, taking solace in the closeness of their bodies had happily ceded his power and let Zim take control.

“I love you, you know …” Zim breathed, rolling his hips, feeling like the absolute epitome of love-making.

“I kinda guessed,” Dib replied with a soft chuckle. “I love you back.”

Zim rubbed against him desperately, and Dib bucked his hips up. Zim gave a startled yelp and sat up a little. 

“Fuck! Sorry …” Dib steadied him.

“You’re okay …oof … just go gently …”

When Dib gently pressed upwards, Zim moaned softly. “Good human …”   
Zim caught Dib’s barely audible “ah!” in response and nuzzled against his cheek. “You like being told how good you are?” he purred. Dib nodded wordlessly against him. “Perfect. Because there’s so much to love about you …”

Dib let Zim lead all his little movements, his senses lost in a symphony of Zim’s skin against his, Zim’s fingers tangled in his hair, hot breath against his neck as Zim’s lips trailed down it, praise mumbled like a prayer, the pressure of Zim’s hips against his, Zim’s talented tentacle rubbing him and thrusting him deep into Zim’s body. All he could do was submit to it and let Zim pleasure him from head to toe.

“—my lovely, clever human,” Zim chirped softly as Dib suddenly whimpered softly. Zim stopped and lifted his head up, stroking Dib’s cheek. “What was that about?”

“... it was about me being really close already …” Dib mumbled, turning red.

“Good,” Zim said going back to kissing him all over.

“I’m trying not to outpace you …”

“Mm … if last weekend was any indication, I’d say I find you climaxing to be really attractive,” Zim said, kissing the tip of Dib’s nose. He brushed his lips against Dib’s, looking at him through heavily lidded eyes. “Don’t fight it … let me make you feel good.”

Zim kissed him deeply, moaning loud and desperate as Dib reached up and stroked his antennae. Every time Zim came up for air, he whispered more words of love and praise into Dib’s ears, stroking his human’s hair.

Dib stopped trying to fight anything and everything happening to him, relaxing under Zim’s body.

“Much better … there’s a good Dib,” Zim purred, making Dib abruptly lose control.

“Ah! Zim!” He wrapped his arms around Zim, who stroked his cock with a passionate fervor, letting out a couple little shrieks and pressing in deep as his cock emptied alongside Dib’s. They held each other tight, kissing sloppily and rubbing their bodies together in an attempt to chase aftershocks of the orgasms that had them moaning each other’s names. Zim pressed his hips in, rubbing and moaning softly, until his cock finally retracted and he relaxed against Dib’s body.

In the silence that followed, all the Zim could hear was the beating of their hearts and Dib’s heavy breathing. He was peripherally aware that his antennae were tangled with Dib’s cowlicks.

When he finally propped himself up on his elbows, Dib was laying back with his eyes closed. Zim attempted to untangle his antennae from Dib’s thick locks.

“Oh, there’s the post-orgasm shame,” Dib muttered. “I was wondering when it would kick in …”

“About what?” Zim asked gently, confused. He looked down. "Because if it's about the absolute lake of grossness between us ... I am right there with you."

Dib smiled despite himself and rubbed Zim's back. "Nah, I'm starting to think that's just par for the course. It's more ... residual weirdness over this being my coping mechanism.”

Zim leaned over on one elbow, tracing is fingers over Dib’s chest with his other hand. “Your brain wants you to feel safe. And if you feel safe underneath me, getting made love to and being told what a good human you are … is that the worst way to deal with difficult things?”

Dib let the logic percolate through his brain. “Not when you put it like that,” he whispered back. “That makes it sound … almost logical.”  He looked up at Zim with eyes that were suddenly worried. “You won’t make me go back to class, will you?”

“Of course not … I’m taking you to the aquarium,” Zim said with a smirk. “I thought … I don’t know. It’s … poetic, maybe? A good bookend to a terrible day. Plus …" He leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard they got new seals.”

Dib couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You know the way to a guy’s heart.”

“Well,  _ your _ heart, at least.” He snuggled in close. “And really ... that's all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Content Warning] There is discussion of attempted sexual assault. No gory details. The discussion mostly concerns the emotional fallout that resulted. [ End Content Warning]
> 
> End Notes: So ... this whole chapter was NOT what I had in my outline. The original chapter plan had Dib nope'ing out from class because of a panic attack. I knew from the beginning what had happened to him while Zim was gone, but if you read _[Cutting Class](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336019)_, there's a mostly throwaway line about Dib not being ready to talk about it and Zim respects that and the conversation moves on. _Cutting Class_ was supposed to be part of this chapter. But when I started writing it ... this is the way it wanted to go and no amount of revisions could steer it elsewhere.
> 
> I also want to say ... I never want the sex scenes in my stories to feel exploitative; they should be in service to some greater plot or character element. I sincerely hope none of this came off as sleazy. I wanted to show Dib grappling with the idea that Zim is the one solid, constant, dependable thing in his life. The fact that he's willing to be vulnerable and trust Zim to the extent that he does isn't insignificant.
> 
> Other side note: _[Wants & Needs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856192)_ was also written when this chapter looked really different. Consider it canonical, but I'm not including it as a contiguous chapter within this fic.
> 
> Good lord ... I hope I haven't offended anyone. This was a stressful chapter to write .-.


	14. Dib, You're Grounded from Zim Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib attempts to have a heart to heart with his dad. Zim gets some unexpected news.  
*********************************************  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the song at the beginning because it's just so good <33
> 
> _[Wants & Needs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856192)_ was supposed to be the next chapter, but it ended up feeling a bit tonally dissonant so "I cut it from the contiguous fic. If you want some shameless, out of context smut, feel free to go give it a read <3
> 
> This concludes Act 1! Act 2 will be coming soon to a computer near you!  
The best place to see my progress on things is Twitter, where I am also **[@StarlitVesper](https://twitter.com/StarlitVesper)**

_I want a life to call my own_  
_No more learning through palindromes_  
_I'd take the stars if they only shone_  
_I'll meet my makeshift family_  
_Beneath the shade of that willow tree_

[\- Coral Bones, _Youthemism_](https://soundcloud.com/coralbones/youthemism)

* * *

Dib was a little surprised to find Gaz waiting for them when they arrived back at his house.

“I’m not even going to ask what you two idiots were up to, because I don’t —”

“Aquarium,” Zim replied helpfully, before she could finish.

She cast Zim a bewildered expression, then glanced at Dib, who nodded.

“Huh, well, I stand corrected.”

Dib tossed his keys on the table and collapsed into a chair. Zim was immediately in his lap and Dib welcomed the intrusion, wrapping his arms around him.

“People at school fucking suck,” he mumbled into Zim’s shoulder.

Zim watched Gaz's face suddenly grow serious as she slowly looked her brother over.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sounding legitimately concerned.

“I’ll live …” Dib muttered.

Zim met Gaz’s eyes for a moment, trying to discern whether or not she knew what had transpired earlier that morning. The day had been harder on his human than he’d been anticipating, and he was genuinely getting worried that any other hiccups might send Dib over the edge.

“At least the hard part is over,” Gaz said softly. “You’ve got me and Zim for this last bit. If anything starts to go off the rails — though I feel the need to reiterate that I really do not think it will — I’ll be here for damage control.”

Dib nodded, arms still wrapped protectively around Zim.

“I’ll be right upstairs for moral support, no matter what happens,” Zim said, stroking his hair.

“Thanks … I’m just a little bit down to my last nerve right now, between the dozen anxiety attacks I’ve had since breakfast,” Dib mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

“I won’t let dad do anything he’ll regret,” Gaz assured him. “I’ll even warm him up for you. By the time you talk to him, he'll be perfectly agreeable.”

Dib didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd almost never found their father to be agreeable, and that however pleasant he might be with Gaz, he would almost certainly be cold and distant by the time Dib had a chance to talk to him.

Gaz sighed. “Look … go upstairs. Relax a bit so you’re not a total mess, and by the time you come back down, everything will be easy. Alright?”

Dib didn’t move, so Zim hopped down and tugged at his hand. “Come on, Dib,” he coaxed, finally managing to convince his human to get to his feet.

“Actually, Zim … can I steal you for a second?” Gaz asked. 

Dib shot Zim a concerned look but Zim gently herded him towards the stairs. “I’ll be right up. Go get comfy.”

Dib cast him one last concerned look, but eventually made his way upstairs.

Gaz watched him go, then waited until she heard the door close before turning to Zim.

“What did Harvey do to him?” she asked, not wasting time with segues.

Zim groaned. “I was kind of hoping that incident wouldn’t get out to the whole school …”

“You left a football player laying in a pool of blood first thing in the morning,” Gaz said incredulously. “I didn’t think I’d need to teach _ you _of all people how to hide a body, but damn.”

Zim looked away.

“What happened?” Gaz sounded serious.

“He hurt Dib,” Zim said darkly.

“You didn’t actually let him go somewhere on his own, did you?”

“No!” Zim said quickly. “He went to go get something out of his locker and told me to go to class … but I waited for him just down the hall and when he didn’t show up …” Zim looked up, eyes wide. “It was only for a couple seconds!! I didn’t think … if I’d known what he’d been through before …”

Gaz suddenly looked that much more concerned. “What are you talking about?”

“The last time I left!” Zim exclaimed, starting to panic. “When I came back, he had a black eye and looked horrible but wouldn’t tell me what happened! So I promised I would never leave him alone at school ever again. But I didn’t know that anyone in particular had it out for him … and when I came down the hall today and saw that meathead about to hurt _ my human _ I just … lost it. Threw the backpack a little too hard. Or maybe not hard _ enough _…” Zim clenched his fist.

Gaz suddenly pulled Zim close and he momentarily panicked. Being touched by any human other than Dib still seemed borderline obscene.

“Err …” Zim wasn’t quite sure what was happening, so he patted her awkwardly. 

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Gaz said, squeezing him a moment longer before finally releasing him.

“I’ve sort of been part of the problem, though,” Zim replied morosely. "You really shouldn't be thanking me for 3 days of fumbling through being his partner ..."

“You’ve kept the bullies away and you saved him from killing himself.”

“The wounds were superficial…” Zim mumbled.

“Augh … Zim …” Gaz rubbed the bridge of her nose. “He hasn’t attempted again because he has you to care about, now. I can tell by the way he looks at you that you’re good to him. You’re keeping him alive just by being with him.”

Zim looked up. “Really?”

“For real. Now, go keep him company before he spontaneously combusts because he’s more than 5 feet from you.”

Zim didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted upstairs and didn’t bother knocking on Dib’s door; he slipped inside and immediately identified the lump under the covers as his human. He slowly padded over and then hopped up on the bed. When Dib didn’t immediately respond, Zim gently pulled the covers back and stroked his hair.

“Do you want physical comfort?” Zim asked gently. “I’m happy to be either of the spoons …”

Dib finally looked up, misery written all over his face. “Little spoon?” His voice was scarcely above a whisper.

Zim climbed under the covers next to him. “Good, because I’m a terrible big spoon.”

Dib wrapped his arms around Zim, pressing his face against his neck and inhaling. “You always smell so nice,” he mumbled.

Zim leaned his head against Dib's arm. “Was I too pushy with you today?” he asked. “Because I was just thinking … I don’t want to trigger you again. And I thought you were fine earlier. But now you seem … really _ not fine _and I … I don’t want you to hurt yourself again over something I did.”

Dib shifted behind him, pulling both their tops up slightly, then pressing his belly against the small of Zim’s back. “You didn’t trigger me. I needed the closeness … I want to re-contextualize this as something we do because we love each other, rather than something anyone is allowed to force on me.”

“I was pushy at the aquarium, though …” Zim said morosely. Behind him, Dib shrugged.

“Yeah? Maybe? But it was a nice distraction and … I don’t know. The fact that you still want me and don’t see me differently feels … really good. I just feel safe whenever we’re together and that's no exception.”

“... I wish I knew why,” Zim whispered. “After how terrible I’ve been to you, I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“It’s not like you bullied me or anything,” Dib said, leaning down to kiss Zim’s shoulder. “We had a rivalry. You respected me enough to consider me a threat. And things may have gotten weird and complicated after that but … I don’t know. You’ve been this one constant in my life and when I’m with you … I can relax. Especially now that I know you’ll protect me.”

A sudden knock at the door interrupted the moment. 

“Hey love bugs … Dad’s gonna be home any minute now, so get decent.”

“We’re fully clothed!!” Dib yelled back at Gaz through the door, slightly offended.

“Whatever you say! Just give me five minutes with him and then he’s all yours.” Gaz’s footsteps carried on down the hall. 

Behind him, Zim felt his human wilt slightly. He turned and kissed under Dib’s chin. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll be right up here for you no matter what.”

Dib nodded and pressed against Zim’s back. He never pictured himself having to do any sort of coming out. He never even pictured himself dating, really. If anything romantic ever arose, he figured he would be off at college and could remain as fiercely private as ever from his family. Everything that had happened with Zim in the past few days was completely unexpected. He certainly didn’t plan to feel this close this fast, or for Zim to say ‘I love you’ first, or to feel so at ease being naked and close and making passionate love to each other. A week ago, Dib would have said the chances of him ever wanting a romantic partnership with another person were slim to none. But here he was, holding his former rival in his arms and feeling more complete than he ever had before.

“You might be the only person I’ll ever love,” Dib said quietly, as much to Zim as himself, as the realization washed over him.

Zim smiled. “Good. You’re Zim’s human now. You don’t need anyone else. Not ever.”

The distant sound of the garage door opening made Dib suddenly freeze. He listened intently as the interior door opened and shut, and could hear a distant conversation between his dad and Gaz. He felt like his entire body had gone numb and he wasn't quite sure how much time had passed before Zim began fidgeting.

“You should go down,” Zim said gently from his arms. “It’ll be quicker than you think and I’ll be right here for you. If it goes well, you can invite me to dinner.”

“If it goes badly, I’m leaving," Dib said resolutely. "I already packed up, just in case.”

Zim turned and looked at Dib sadly. It was painful, the lack of faith Dib had in his own family. Though not at all undeserved.

Dib sat up and slid off the side of the bed, looking like he was about to attend his own funeral. “Here goes nothing,” he said joylessly. 

He walked to the door and looked back over his shoulder one more time. Zim smiled and put his hand up in an “I love you” sign.

“Where on earth did you learn that one?” Dib asked, a perplexed grin on his face despite his nerves.

“GIR showed me,” Zim replied with a blush.

“ILY right back at you, space boy,” Dib whispered before slipping out of the room. He wanted to get things over with before he completely lost his nerve.

He made his way downstairs, where he could still hear Gaz and his dad talking. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen and when Gaz spotted him, she made an excuse to go back upstairs. She gave him a small thumbs-up as she passed, and he took a deep breath before walking into the room.

Professor Membrane was in the middle of getting dinner ready. In recent years, he had been making slightly more of an effort to actually bond with his kids on the rare occasion he was actually at home for more than an hour at a time. Dib found the gesture to be hollow and too little, too late after years of singular, annual family dinners at questionable chain restaurants.

Dib waited in the doorway for a beat without being acknowledged.

_ Typical ... _

“Hey, dad …” Damn, was his voice always that high and tenuous?

“Just a moment.” Professor Membrane didn't even do him the dignity of turning around.

Dib was speechless. He wasn't even sure why he was shocked at this point. This had always been how they interacted. It briefly flashed through his mind that he could very well be dead in that moment, if Zim hadn't been the singular person to see how much he was suffering. He wondered, morbidly, if his dad would have told the coroner to wait a minute.

“I … no, _ not _ just a moment. I need to talk to you.”

He had never been so direct with his father before, and that seemed to startle both of them. Professor Membrane looked over at Dib, surprised. 

“Alright. What is it?”

Dib didn’t know what he expected. It wasn’t as if the professor was going to turn around and give him a hearty,_ “Hello, son. Sorry I wasn’t around all weekend. Did you do anything interesting? Like, say, have unapproved sleepovers with your former nemesis?” _

“I’m … uh …” Dib felt like he was having an out of body experience. “Dad …”

“Yes? Is something wrong?”

He now had his father’s full attention. If only because his frenetic attempts at getting a full sentence out was beginning to ring alarm bells. 

“What? No. I’m just … I need to tell you that … um. Well. I’m gay. And I’m telling you because I’m dating someone now. So I thought, you know, maybe you should know about that,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. 

“Oh! Well … I suppose that makes both you and your sister statistical anomalies but I support you no matter who you love,” his father replied awkwardly with a well-intentioned shoulder pat. “And who, exactly, would that be? Specifically…?”

“It’s Zim,” Dib said quickly. 

“Oh?” Membrane’s face went from bewildered to concerned. "_ Oh _ , that foreign friend of yours that you’ve had … a bit of a _ complicated relationship _ with?” the Professor said delicately. “Son, I don’t know if that’s such a great idea …”

Dib put up his hands. “I know, I know. But we finally talked things out on Friday and … and this was the end result. I mean,” Dib ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “We talked through _ everything _ … all the terrible things that have happened between us and it _sucked_ … but then we realized how we felt for each other and … things have been good so far. _Really good._”

Dib looked up to see his father giving him a pained look. 

“So you _ don’t _ still think he’s …”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Dib replied stonily, cutting him off.

“So you _ do _ still think he’s an alien,” his dad said, resigned. “Look … son. I just don’t think, given your … _ condition … _ and your _history_ together, that this is a good idea. Things might seem good _ now _, but if you have another break from reality and hurt him—”

Dib’s eyes widened in shock. “You _ really _ think I’d _ hurt him _?”

The professor gave him a searching look. “Do you remember when Zim first transferred in, and I got called in to have a meeting with the principal because you were drawing … honestly,_ rather disturbing _ art and threatening Zim with bodily injury?”

Dib’s expression darkened. “I don’t really see how things from that long ago have _any_ bearing on who I am today.”

“But what’s changed?”

“_ Me _, dad,” Dib said incredulously.

“And yet you still think Zim’s an alien. Dib …” Membrane pressed his palm to his forehead, stalling in order to find the right words. “Do you see the problem here?”

Those were not the right words.

Dib stood, open mouthed and shocked. It took him a moment to regain his composure. “Yeah,” he said, more certain than he’d sounded the entire conversation. “Yeah, you know what? _ I do. _ The problem is that _ all you see is my illness _ . You don’t see how I could possibly learn and grow as a person because you think I’m so fundamentally _ broken —” _

“I didn’t say that—” Membrane interjected defensively. 

“— that I would _ actually _ snap and hurt or kill the person I’m in love with!” Dib momentarily buried his face in his hands.

“You’ve had enough trouble staying on your medication for any period of time,” his father said with quiet intensity. “And when you don’t take responsibility for yourself, it forces me to have to look out for those around you.”

“_ When?? _ ” Dib yelled. “When have you _ ever _ taken responsibility for me?? You haven’t even _ been here _ for most of my life! You foisted me off on institutions whenever you got the chance! You don’t even _ know who I am or how I’ve changed!! _”

Never had the space between them felt quite as insurmountable as it did now. The way his father looked at him made Dib feel like he was being seen for the first time, as a complete and total stranger to the person who should have known him best. 

“And maybe that’s part of the problem,” his father said. Dib thought he could detect a hint of sadness and resentment. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you at all. You could be completely better or this could be just another plot to _‘expose Zim as the alien menace he is’_ and … I’m not willing to gamble with someone else’s life like that.”

Dib’s mind raced and he couldn’t grab on to a single coherent thought. “This is _ bullshit _ ,” he finally sputtered. “And you know what? I don’t have to sit here and be insulted another minute longer. You don’t even _ know me, dad _,” he hissed as he barged past on his way back upstairs.

Gaz had clearly been listening in, as she was down the steps in a split second and grabbed his arm as he stormed past. 

“Don’t go anywhere until I talk to him,” she said, her voice as close to pleading as Dib had ever heard it. “You’re just going to make things worse for yourself if you run away now.”

“I can’t stay here, Gaz! He wants to stop me from seeing Zim and that’s … it’s not going to happen! I’ve finally got someone who loves me and he wants to take him away from me!” Dib yanked his arm back and continued up to his room. 

“I’m going to talk to him, Dib! Just calm down! We can figure this out!” Gaz’s voice grew muffled as he slammed his door shut. 

Dib marched straight for his duffel bag without looking at Zim. “Come on — we’re leaving.”

“Dib,” Zim said softly, and Dib finally saw the fear and sadness in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Let’s get out of here.”

Zim didn’t move and Dib gestured angrily towards the window. “Are you going to give me a hand or am I going to have to just jump out the window myself?” he asked bitingly.

Zim sighed. “Just hold that bag close so it doesn’t get all tangled. I feel like falling to our deaths is a tad dramatic, even for the circumstances.” Zim lifted Dib and immediately thought back to last Friday when he held a reluctant, bleeding Dib in his arms, doing his best to ignore the feelings that had threatened to bubble up and drown him. He didn’t think, then, that he’d be standing in the same place not three days later, helping his boyfriend willingly run away from home. He shook his head and proceeded out the window and down the side of the house, landing softly on the lawn. They entered the garage through the back door and Dib motioned for Zim to get in the car. Dib tossed his bag in the back and then hastily climbed in and opened the garage door. He kept expecting his dad to burst out at any moment and attempt to stop him, but he pulled out of the garage without incident and sped more quickly than was necessary down the street.

“Dib …” Zim started, but Dib just turned on the stereo and put the volume on at full blast, drowning him out. Zim seemed to finally get the picture and sat back in his seat, staring uncertainly out the window. 

Dib was so livid that his thoughts weren’t even coming out in coherent sentences. Inside his head was a massive, prickly tangle of pure anger and frustration. He let the music assault his ears in an attempt to externalize some of the cacophony going on in his brain.

He barely even registered pulling in to Zim’s cul-de-sac. He turned the engine off but left the stereo on, staring ahead resolutely. 

Zim finally reached over and turned off the music. Dib didn’t even move.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” Zim asked quietly. He'd already heard everything but getting Dib talking seemed like it might release some of the emotional pressure that was rapidly coming to a head.

“No, I want to cut myself because I cannot process all of the bullshit going on in my head,” Dib replied through gritted teeth. “I told you I don’t have the coping skills to deal with any of this and you’re taking away the one thing that worked!”

“You don’t get to make yourself hurt over this Dib,” Zim said, looking at him sadly.

“But I already _am_ hurting over this!! It’s hurting _worse_ because I don’t know how to process any of it! I don't have the tools ...”

"Of course not, I threw them away," Zim interjected sternly.

"What? Ugh ... No, Zim ... I mean I don't have the _coping skills_ to deal with this like a normal human."

Zim sighed. “Do you want to go inside? I’ll make you some cocoa.”

“If we go inside I’m worried I’ll end up snapping at GIR and he doesn’t deserve that,” Dib said tearfully. 

“Let’s take a walk, then,” Zim replied, opening his door.

“I don’t want people to see me …”

But Zim had already strode around the car and was pulling Dib’s door open. “Come on. Walk and talk. I think we need to get you moving.”

Dib grumbled, but slowly made his way out of the car. Zim reached for his hand and helped him up. He wasn’t sure when he would stop being surprised at how strong Zim was for his size. 

“At least we prepared for this possibility, right?” Zim asked as they locked the car and started down the road.

“The one I prepared for was a double standard in regards to my perceived gayness.” Dib chewed his lip. “I mean, that one I can’t do jack shit about. But then he brings up me thinking you’re an alien and all the crazy shit I did and all the fighting … and I almost feel like I’m being held responsible for someone else’s actions.”

Zim looked up and cocked his head in confusion.

Dib held his other hand up in surrender. “Look. I take _full_ responsibility for that, okay? I was acting like a lunatic. But that’s not who I am anymore. I’m not the same as when I was in middle school and I haven’t been that way for a while, now. If I could change the past, I would. But I can’t. So it feels a little unfair to have all that used against me when I can’t do anything about it in the here and now.” He sighed and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “And when he brings up the alien thing … I’m a bad liar, Zim. A _really _terrible liar. I don’t like it and I’m bad at it.”

“Gaz told me that ... your father thought that you saying I was an alien was a symptom of your illness,” Zim said, staring at the pavement. “I feel pretty badly about that …”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But _ you’re right _and I feel like you’re just … being punished for being smart.” Zim looked up at him and patted his hand. “You’re very smart, Dib. I just want you to know that.” 

Dib smiled sadly and gave his hand a little squeeze. “It means a lot. Thank you.”

They walked in silence, the grey skies overhead threatening to burst with rain and herds of leaves racing across the road in the wind.

“At least things are looking up with Gaz,” Zim pointed out gently.

“Yeah, and I’m really grateful for her. But like … Dad’s half my family. And it just sucks that he’ll always think of me as his insane kid … and, fuck, I don’t know … maybe he’s right!”

“No, he isn’t, Dib …”

“Even you said I’ve been acting weird these past few days,” Dib said nervously. “What if I _ do _do something to you?”

Zim made a dismissive noise. “Ugh … _look_. What, exactly, does he think is evidence of delusions?”

“All the paranormal stuff … and what I’ve said about you …”

“And we know you’re at least right about me,” Zim said with a shrug. “So you believe in ghosts and Bigfoot and that … that Nessie monster thing …”

“I mean, pliosaurs existed once. That’s a fact,” Dib mumbled. 

“Sure. The point is … The rest of it isn’t causing any problems.”

“So I might be insane, but not a _ problematic _insane …”

“I still don’t think you’re insane,” Zim said, stroking Dib’s hand with his thumb. “But we’ll try and figure out a way to make it so you aren’t at war with your biochemistry all the time.”

“Even if we found some way to fix everything that’s wrong with my head,” Dib said softly, “it wouldn’t matter. He’d never believe me. All the damage has already been done and I don’t know if I can ever fix it.”

“You’ve _tried_, though, Dib. You did your best.”

“My best wasn’t good enough.”

“That’s … not your problem.”

Dib suddenly came to a halt and Zim nearly tripped over his own feet. They exchanged a mutually quizzical look.

“I ran away from home, Zim,” Dib said slowly. “You realize this _ is _very much my problem, yeah?”

Zim took a moment to find his words. “I … _ yes, _ I realize that but … just … you _can’t_ control what other people do. Okay? You _ did do your best. _ Now, whether or not that changes what someone else does is just … _ entirely _out of your hands. Do you see what I mean?”

“... It still feels shitty.”

They resumed walking down the street, acorns crunching underfoot.

“I know.” Zim let go of Dib’s hand and instead put his arm around Dib’s waist, pressing against him in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “As in … I _ actually _ know. My personal best got me banished twice and almost killed. And I love you and there is nowhere I’d rather be than right here with you, in this moment … but it’s still going to hurt for a while yet, knowing that my society will _ never _respect me and there is fuckall I can do about it.” He leaned against Dib. “I think we just have to be grateful that we found each other. Because the most you can really hope for is someone who understands what you’re going through.”

Dib was quiet and Zim really hoped he had found the right things to say. The wind blustered and a chill ripped through his layers. He shivered slightly and felt Dib pull him closer in response.

“You know … I don’t feel like cutting anymore,” Dib said softly. “You were right. The urge passed.”

Zim beamed up at him. “I’m really proud of you.”

Dib blushed. “Thanks… I mean, it’s not _that_ big of a thing …”

“You’re selling yourself short. This is a huge step for you, and I’m proud.”

Dib smiled and stopped to pull Zim into a hug.

“I think you deserve some cocoa,” Zim said, snuggling against him. “Let’s head home, okay?”

Dib nodded and they turned around to go back.

_ Home. _

Despite all of the horribleness of the past hour, thinking about going _ home _with Zim made his heart soar.

“There’s a bright side to all this,” Zim said. “All the stuff we planned to do together. I get to have you next to me every night without having to sneak around. Maybe there will finally be some decent fucking food in the fridge.”

Dib smiled. “With me trying to cook? There won’t be any shortage of pasta for a while, at least.”

They made their way back to the cul-de-sac and Dib grabbed his bag from the car before going inside. GIR just about toppled Zim over when they opened the front door, and quickly bounced from Zim to Dib for extra hugs. Dib couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome.

“We’ll need to sort out a sleeping situation for you,” Zim said, taking in the current setup. “I’ll have to put a bed … somewhere. I can’t have you sleeping on the couch all the time. I think it’s bad for your back or something.”

Dib dropped his bag beside the couch for the moment.

“But I suppose we can figure that out in a little bit. Until then, I was thinking we could eat in and watch a movie?” Zim offered.

“That sounds like the perfect way to keep my mind off things,” Dib said with a nod. He was just about to suggest takeout options when the TV suddenly switched away from GIR’s cartoons and chimed.

“Heyyy!!! I was watchin’ that!!” GIR whined. “Master! The TV got broke …”

Text appeared on the black screen.

** _Incoming Transmission from: The Massive_ **

Dib stared at the screen in confusion. “What in the —"

Zim was already pushing him towards the kitchen entryway. “Go sit in the kitchen and stay there until I tell you to come back,” he said without looking back. Dib sensed the sudden urgency of the situation and scurried from the room, GIR bounding at his heels. 

Zim held his breath and accepted the transmission. 

“My Tallest!” he said, his mouth immediately going dry. “It’s … it’s been so _ long _, since last we spoke …”

“Hey there, Zim!_ So glad _we could get ahold of you,” Purple chirped with mock cheerfulness.

“It’s always _such_ a pleasure,” Red added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Had they always been this blatant and Zim was just too much a fool to realize it? He tried to think back to a time when a call from the Tallest would have put him over the moon for a month. Now their voices made his head buzz and his guts squirm.

“To what do I owe this _ delightful _ … intrusion …” he said, hoping he hadn’t just shot himself in the foot. 

The two Tallest smiled in a way that made him genuinely nervous. “Well, Zim, we were just calling about your Existence Evaluation …” Red said, looking predatory.

Zim felt all of his innards drop straight through his boots. There was a ringing in his brain and he felt like he was watching everything happen on a screen from behind his own eyes.

“The one that happened several years back?” he heard himself say hopefully. But he didn’t feel his lips moving.

Red laughed. “Of course not, Zim — we all know you skated _ right on by _ last time. How could we _ possibly _ forget?” The menace in his tone made Zim’s heart skip, even though there were literal light years separating him from them.

“No, this is about your _ next _ Existence Evaluation,” Purple explained. “Seems the last one was scheduled in error — your evaluation wasn’t supposed to happen until this coming week! Oops!”

“Can’t you just … cancel it, then? Since I’ve already been evaluated? And, uh, passed with _ flying colors _?” He smiled even as his antennae quivered.

“‘Fraid not, Zim!” Purple replied with a shrug. “It’s already on the calendar.”

“But —”

“It’s already on the calendar, _ Zim _,” Red repeated, pointedly.

“Speaking of things that are on the calendar,” Purple interjected, “You _do _know when your own birthday is, right?”

“Y-yes,” Zim said softly.

“Great! Then we’ll see you on Judgementia on that date. I expect you know how to get there this time?”

Zim nodded wordlessly.

“Fantastic!”

“Oh, and Zim? If you fail to show up,” Red said in a tone that made Zim’s skin crawl, “we _ will _ send someone to get you and you _ will _ be deactivated.”

“_ WHAT?? _ ” Zim yelled, the panic finally hitting him like a bus. “Since when does missing an Evaluation have a death penalty attached?? I thought anyone who didn’t show up was just considered _ banished _ or … or a _defector_ … ”

“Not anymore!” Red replied with a grin. “We can’t just have … _ liabilities _floating around out there. I’m sure you understand.”

“Don’t even _think_ about trying to go on the run,” Purple warned.

“I … wasn’t,” Zim squeaked. 

“We _ will _find you if you try and run,” Red added with a grin.

Zim stood in front of the screen, feeling absolutely nothing and suddenly unsure of how to make his mouth work.

“Alright. Well. Great talking to ya Zim,” Purple said cheerfully. “We’ll see you in … oh, I guess six days! Huh. Time sure does fly! See you soon.”

The screen went blank but the images of his leaders were seared into Zim's synthetic retinas.

“Ahhhh!!! Show’s back!!!” GIR yelled as he ran back from the kitchen. Dib poked his head out, eyes wide.

“... Zim?” he asked. Zim didn’t move. Dib slowly made his way over and gently placed a hand on Zim’s shoulder. “Are you alright? … Zim?”

“Th-they’re …” Zim stuttered, hands shaking as he reached out for Dib. He finally looked up, all quivering antennae and ruby eyes shimmering with tears. “They’re going to kill me,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“We’ll think of something,” Dib said, pulling him close and trying not to betray the absolute screaming panic in his head. “It’s okay. I won’t let them take you.” Though how on earth he was going to pull that off, he couldn’t even begin to sort out. 

“No no no no no no …” Zim mumbled over and over.

“We will … I promise. There has to be a way.”

Zim sunk to the floor and Dib followed, trying to hold on to him.

“I can’t do this,” Zim whispered. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t …” He repeated it like a mantra and all Dib could do was hold him and try to keep him from completely falling apart.

Dib’s head spun. Six days to figure things out. Six days to come up with a plan so that Dib wouldn’t lose Zim forever. Six days to mentally prepare for the possibility that his life would change forever. Six days … 144 hours to possible doom.

_ Oh, sorry Zim! Seems we mis-scheduled your Evaluation! Isn’t that funny? Anyway, next one’s in <strike>a month</strike> _ _six days! Have fun waiting to die._

* * *

_ **End of Act 1** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 2 will be called "Let's Get Dangerous".


	15. My Name is Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim attempts to appeal to the Tallest's better nature. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK, BABY!! B)
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short. My initial plan was to wait until this was longer, but I've been running a lot more behind because I've just got too many irons in the fire at the moment. Now that Quantum Entanglement has wrapped up, I should be a little more free, and I'll be focusing on writing for all of November! (Been focusing more on my art for October for obvious reasons).
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to revive this since it's been about a year since I started. I now know exactly where I want to take the story and I have every intention of seeing this through 'till the end! My writing style has probably changed a lot since then, so bear with me as I try to get back in the groove of this particular story <3

_🅰🅲🆃 2: 🅻🅴🆃'🆂 🅶🅴🆃 🅳🅰🅽🅶🅴🆁🅾🆄🆂  
_

_Centuries of looking for life in the dust of moving taillights,  
On the road I'm ready to fight, off the beat and out of my mind,  
All you lovers under the knife, all you knives out hunting on date night,  
Tell me something I'm doing right, cut me open down the red line _

[— Glowbug, _Go Easy_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEe1gbEg9jc)

* * *

Zim sat with his back against the wall, tablet suspended in front of his face. He wasn’t even sure the Tallest would pick up for a second phone call. He dialed them and held his breath. 

A moment later they appeared, looking irritated.

“Did we forget something when we last spoke to you two minutes ago, Zim?” Red asked through gritted teeth.

“Can we drop the act, already?” Zim asked, frustrated. “I get it; you’re sick of me.”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Purple said with audible relief. 

“Fine. What the fuck do you want, Zim?” Red asked with his arms crossed. 

Zim set his jaw resolutely and stared them down. “I’m calling to ask that you to forgo the Existence Evaluation and banish me instead.”

In the silence that stretched across the next five seconds, Zim couldn’t read their expressions at all.

“Look, I don’t know how to tell you this if you haven’t gotten the picture by now,” Purple said, stony faced, “but as long as we’re being all _honest _with each other … you’ve _been banished, _Zim. Since Foodcourtia. You never _stopped_ being banished. You were never reinstated as an Invader and you were never supposed to land on Earth or any other planet. We were hoping you’d perish in the cold vacuum of space.”

“I know that,” Zim growled back. “I am _wildly aware _of that fact.”

“Oh really? Since when?” Purple asked with a smirk. 

“Since … a while ago, alright? Doesn’t matter right now! All I’m asking you to do is make my current banishment absolutely official. You can even come and take every piece of Irken tech I have, all my non essential PAK equipment. I’ll relegate myself to a lifetime on Earth and you will _never _have to even think about me ever again.”

“Not feeling confident about the Evaluation, I take it?” Red quipped. 

Zim took a shaky breath to try and reign in his frustration. “With all due respect, the last one almost killed me.”

“Kinda the point,” Purple muttered. 

Zim continued as if he hadn’t heard. “And now that I’m no longer attempting to fill a role that was never mine in the first place, all I’m asking you to consider is just leaving me here for good. More than banishment I’m asking for … a permanent and binding exile.”

Red gave him a suspicious glare. “Why? What’s in this for you? Sure, you’ll be alive but … You’ll be an Irken without a function. And that’s the worst possible thing to be.”

Zim looked away, contemplating the implications of telling the truth. “I’m …” he began softly, trailing off. He looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m in love with a human. I’m aware of how that sounds … you don’t have to tell me. The important thing is that I won’t be getting in your way.”

Zim looked up to see his Tallest staring at him, wide eyed and silent. He started to feel like he’d approached the conversation from the wrong angle. Purple finally let out a shocked laugh, breaking the uncomfortable tension. 

“At least try to keep the lies within the realm of _reason,” _Red told Zim with a glare. 

“An Irken … _in love_!” Purple howled. “That’s the dumbest lie I’ve ever heard!”

“It’s not a lie,” Zim said quietly. “I _am_ in love with a human. So just … leave me here in disgrace. Tell the smeets a cautionary tale of poor broken, defective Zim and his _feelings. _Maroon me here. It’s as good as a death sentence, maybe even better, and far less work for you.” 

Red looked utterly disgusted. 

“Zim, I can’t think of many praises I would willingly give you,” he started. 

“He means _any,” _Purple corrected.

“But you were, at the very least, the last one I’d expect to go _native_.” Disappointment cascaded off Red’s tone. “You were always wholly dedicated to the cause and serving the empire … serving _us, _as questionable as your methods were. Now you tell me you want to get all … _domestic_ with a lower species? Worse, a lower species who isn’t even good for anything?”

Zim shrank back, unsure of how to defend himself.

“And you _really _think it has these “love” feelings for you, too?” Red asked with a smirk. “You’re naïve, Zim. When you’re not, you know, outright delusional.”

Zim’s rage threatened to boil over. “Dib loves me _and_ he recognizes me for my talents. That’s more than I can say of _you_.”

“Dib?” asked Purple, raising an antenna. “Wait, why does that sound familiar? Dib, Dib … we don’t know one of those, do we?”

Realization, then revulsion, then amusement flashed on Red’s face so quickly that Zim barely registered it. “The … the human who’s been _trying to kill you_ this whole time?” Red asked incredulously. He shook his head. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Zim. But that human has you _right _where it wants you.”

“Maybe we _should_ just leave him,” Purple chimed in with a shrug. “He’ll be cut open by the end of the week, if not sooner.”

“You just can’t comprehend how it feels for someone to _actually _care about you,” Zim said quietly, shaking with anger. “I feel _sorry for you. _You’ll never get to feel what it’s like to have a purpose like this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry; I couldn’t hear you over the sound of all the _planets we’ve subjugated,_” Purple sassed back. “You were _given _a purpose here, Zim. And then you fucked everything up.”

“Then I am asking you again to cut me off and leave me on Earth! A life in shame and exile is worse than death!” Zim said desperately. 

“Maybe for any _sane _person … but not to you,” Red said pointedly.

“Does it matter??” Zim asked. “Either way, you’re rid of me! And for less work than is required to put together an entire Existence Evaluation.”

“Zim, for what you’ve done … all the Invaders who have died, all of the disaster you’ve caused … for the late Tallest who were killed before their time,” Red growled, leaning close to the screen, “I want you to _suffer. _Which is why, once you’re declared Defective and _properly _dealt with, your PAK will be headed to R&D to figure out _exactly_ what went wrong to make you so broken.”

“If any other smeets come through like that, I want them destroyed on sight,” Purple said resolutely. “Bet we could even hunt ‘em for sport, or something …”

“You don’t have any room to negotiate,” Red said to Zim, ignoring the other Tallest’s muttering. “Either we do this the easy way and you come willingly, or we do it the hard way and you still end up sentenced to death in front of all of Irk. How this goes down is up to you, Zim.”

Zim was stunned into silence. He’d really thought that his leaders would leave him marooned and disgraced. After so long, he wouldn’t have bet they’d still be sore enough over the whole MegaDoomer thing to want to put him to death. 

“If you’re done making ridiculous requests,” Purple said, “we’ll see you in a few days. Provided that little alien pet of yours doesn’t cut you open and put your organs on display before then.”

“If it does, we’ll just come to retrieve your PAK and call it a day,” Red said with a smirk. “Or maybe we’ll even take your human back with us. Show it how a _real _Irken treats those lower than them.”

Zim felt something inside him suddenly snap. He hurled his tablet across the room with an anguished cry, where it collided with the wall and shattered into a million pieces.

“Zim??” came the muffled shout from behind the door. “Are you alright?”

Of course Dib was listening in … stupid human, putting his so very human nose where it didn’t belong ...

Zim’s vision swam and blurred and pressed a hand to his mouth as a silent sob shook his body. He could handle them degrading him, but threatening to hurt Dib was another matter entirely. 

“GIR, can you get this open??”

He could barely hear Dib and GIR through the ringing in his ears. Everything hurt and he felt like the walls were pressing in. How could there not be a single course of action available? There had to be an option somewhere … he just wasn’t thinking hard enough!!

The door suddenly opened and Dib rushed over, throwing his arms around Zim without a word. 

Zim didn’t know where to begin in attempting to articulate his feelings. Hearing his Tallest call him defective and tell him they wanted him dead stung more than he thought it would by this point. But sitting by while they said such awful things about his Dib … that was so much worse.

“I would never,” Dib said softly. “I hope you know that I could never …”

“I know,” Zim choked out. “It’s not … I’m just … if you get _hurt _… because of _me _…!”

“It’s not your fault,” Dib murmured.

“I have to get you off this planet,” Zim said, abruptly standing up and wiping his face with his sleeve. “I’m … I’m as good as dead. But you … with your whole life ahead of you …”

“Out of the question. I’m not leaving you.”

“Dib … They _will _hurt you,” Zim said, tears still running down his face. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind. Especially if … if they want my PAK, to try and prevent any other … _mistakes _like me? They’re going to want you, too.”

The implications suddenly began to dawn on Dib, and he felt his stomach drop.

“You get an emotional reaction out of me,” Zim whispered, looking away. “Of course they’re going to want to study that. And I’m not going to let them get the chance.”

“Zim, wait,” Dib begged. “Let’s just think on this a little longer, okay?”

Zim pressed his hands to his face. “I’ve _been_ thinking, Dib!” he shouted. “The fuck do you think I’ve been doing in here?? I can’t figure out any other way to keep you safe! I don’t know what else to do and I’m just _so angry _at myself for ever letting you get involved with me in the first place! If I’d never told you how I felt, I could just disappear and you’d be fine! But I had to go and tell you and then I just had to tell the Tallest I’m in love with you and … ugh!!!”

“I was at the point where your absence would have affected me long before now,” Dib insisted. “And how do you know they wouldn’t have just dragged your memories of me out of you and then come after me anyway?”

Zim was quiet and Dib reached for his hand. 

“I don’t want to cry on you, Dib,” Zim said quietly. “I know how you get about people having emotions at you and besides, I feel stupid. Irkens don’t cry.”

“So everyone on Irk has the emotional range of a toothpick. Just another way you’re better than they are.” Dib tugged him downwards. Zim sat with his chin over Dib’s shoulder, arms around his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and delay the barrage of tears.

“I said you’re mine forever and I _meant _forever,” Dib said resolutely.

“Dib. You’re —”

“Don’t say ‘squishy and human’,” Dib warned.

“You _are_ though,” Zim whispered. “Anything I could try to save myself is liable to put you in even more danger and that’s just not a risk I’m willing to accept.”

“What did you have in mind?” Dib asked, hoping to pull Zim out of his emotional tailspin.

“There’s only one I can think of that has even a slight chance of working,” Zim said cautiously, leaning his head against Dib’s neck. "But it's stupid."

“I’m all ears,” Dib said, hand under Zim’s shirt, tracing up and down his spine.

“I can make a quick and dirty copy of my PAK,” Zim said, brow creased as he thought through the logistics. “Enough that they’ll get the evaluation over with quickly and take my PAK. They’ll be more concerned with that than my body, so then I just need to reunite with my real PAK.” He huffed irritably. “The only problem is that I’ll have to involve you, because you’re the only one I trust to bring me my PAK. But problem number two is that I’ll need to make you compatible with it, because PAKs don’t like being untethered and it will absolutely attach to you one way or another.”

“So make me an Irken, then,” Dib replied, as if it were the easiest choice in the world.

“_What_??” Zim chirped in surprise.

“Biology experiments are kind of your area of expertise and I’d like to be a bit more useful and durable, so I see it as a win,” Dib explained with a shrug. 

“Do you _really_ want to live to be thousands of years old?” Zim asked incredulously.

“What, are you gonna run out of galaxies to show me?” Dib asked playfully while Zim grumbled indecisively. “_Come on_ … you said it’s the only way you can think of. And I’m more than willing. We can go down to the lab right now and run some tests so you can get started. Why waste valuable time deliberating when it's as good as decided?”

Dib stood up, lifting Zim up with him and setting him on the floor. He gave Zim a hopeful look and Zim finally folded and took his hand.

“You have to promise to get some sleep while I work though,” Zim insisted as they made their way down to the lab.

Dib looked away, blushing. “I don’t really feel like being away from you,” he mumbled.

“I’ll make you a nest on the floor. That way you’ll be right next to me,” Zim said, squeezing his hand.

They made a quick detour on the way to the lab so that Zim could load Dib up with about half the blankets he owned. As soon as they were in the lab, Zim quickly took all the samples he needed before setting Dib up on the floor. He was hoping that Dib would fade off quickly, but he seemed determined to stay up and make conversation, much to Zim’s annoyance. Zim had too much going on in his head to also attempt to do much more than give a noncommittal grunt or a “Noooo, really?” or “Well, damn …” every now and then.

"Dib, could you please — and I mean this in the most loving way possible — shut up and try to sleep?" Zim finally asked, nearly at his wit's end with the constant yammering.

“Why do you even want me to sleep now?” Dib asked with a yawn.

“Because _you_ have school tomorrow,” Zim replied as he carefully filled several vials with the blood he'd taken from Dib. 

“Just me?” Dib asked nervously. “Where are you gonna be?”

“Here,” Zim said simply. “I’ll sort this out and you just focus on graduating.”

“No fucking way, Zim,” Dib said with a glare. “I’m not leaving you alone for a second. School can wait until you’re safe. Just say we’re out from a dual case of Lyme disease or something.”

“Dib … I’m not letting you fail out of high school.” Zim was starting to feel slightly more like a parent than a partner, and he didn't like it one bit.

“Then help me with the homework when we get back!” Dib said, sitting up. “I’m _really_ gonna flunk out if I’m worried about you all week and then something awful happens.” He reached out and grabbed Zim’s hand. “We’re in this together now.”

Zim made the mistake of looking into Dib’s big, brown puppy eyes. Clearly it hadn't taken long for his human to master getting exactly what he wanted from him.

“Oh, _fine_,” Zim said, giving Dib’s hand a squeeze before turning back to his work. “But you’re _still_ going to try and get some rest. I’m not having you all sleep deprived by the time we head out to Judgmentia. That's no good for anyone.”

Dib laid back down, snuggled into the 20 layers of blanket with a quilt slightly over his head like a hood, and finally closed his eyes. “Wake me if anything groundbreaking happens,” he said with a slight smile. 

Zim was just relieved that he finally had the space to get some proper work done. He pulled out Dib’s iPod, plugged it in, and turned on some soft music in the background. Hopefully that would lull Dib into a deep enough sleep that Zim would have the night to himself. He figured that he could have this plan roughly operational by morning, so long as there weren't any significant roadblocks to making a passable clone of his PAK, or something terribly strange going on with Dib’s DNA.

Although, knowing Dib, that was actually a likely possibility.

He had the computer sequence Dib’s DNA and compare it against Zim’s own, then start running through possible ways to make Dib _just_ Irken enough that they could get a PAK on him for a couple hours. Zim rummaged around in one of the cupboards and pulled out one of the cream sodas he had stashed away, then kicked back at the console and watched DNA sequences flash across the screen.

He was a little shocked at how quickly Dib had gotten onboard with this whole thing. Especially given how reluctant he’d been to even tell Zim he loved him. Though Zim supposed they’d sailed right past that milestone in days past. They’d ended up in the honeymoon phase rather quickly and Zim had to wonder if he was taking advantage of Dib’s emotional state by allowing him to have anything to do with Zim’s impending death sentence.

He chugged his soda and turned to look at his sleeping human. Dib’s glasses were set beside his pillow and Dib was sleeping on his stomach with his head turned to the side, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. His mouth was half open and he was drooling slightly on his pillow. Despite the quilted hood around his head, his hair stuck out from under it in tufts.

Love flooded Zim’s body and, for a moment, he considered leaving his work for tomorrow and snuggling up beside his human.

“Blood sample analysis complete,” the Computer stage-whispered.

Zim sighed and turned back towards the screen. He may as well see what they were working with before he decided to turn in early.

He skimmed the readout, stopped, reassured himself that humans usually had 48 chromosomes, then stopped to wonder how in the _heck_ Dib ended up with 52.

It was curious, maybe even _remarkable. _Especially given that 52 also just so happened to be the exact number of chromosomes your average Irken had.

“Did you run this against my DNA yet?” Zim asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Sample has been run against Master Zim’s DNA, all available Irken DNA, all human DNA on file from previous experiments, and Ophioglossum,” the computer states.

Zim’s antennae perked quizzically. “Eh? Why's that last one in the database?”

“Ophioglossum has 1,260 chromosomes. The highest of any known Earth organism.”

“Good for it, but drop it from the list,” Zim said dismissively as the computer made a disappointed whirring noise. “For Irken and Human — how similar is his DNA to either group?”

“98 percent similar to other humans,” the computer said, causing Zim to do a double take.

“Usual human DNA similarity?” he asked. 

“99.9 percent.”

_Well_. That was sure something. Zim was much more nervous to ask his next question, however.

“And the amount shared with Irkens?” Zim asked, mouth dry. He shot a look over his shoulder, but Dib was still snoring away.

“DNA sample has 75% similarity to Irkens from Epsilon Group, Branch 169 Alpha.”

Zim stared blankly, still attempting to parse the first part of the sentence. As if sending his confusion, the computer pulled up a helpful three dimensional Irken family tree.

“Epsilon Group is five generations removed from initial PAK Genesis. In other words —”

“The group of hatchlings in the fifth generation since PAKs became standardized,” Zim interrupted, impatient. “I might not be that old, but I wasn't hatched yesterday. Speed it along.”

“Branch 169 Alpha was the first batch of lab-grown smeets to incorporate Tallest Stryke’s DNA.”

Zim looked bewildered. “I’ve never even heard of the guy … Zoom that thing out to my smeet group, would you?”

Zim stood up on his chair and nearly careened sideways as the computer abruptly and rapidly zoomed out, putting a red pin in the first branch and a green one in Zim’s. This far out, the original branch was nearly invisible.

“How did that even _happen_?” Zim muttered, head spinning. “It’s weird enough that he’s got any Irken DNA similarity at all. But specifically to a group from several millennia ago …” Zim shook his head. “How genetically similar is he to me?” Zim asked.

“70 percent.”

“How genetically similar is your average human to me?”

“25 percent.”

“_How??_” Zim demanded, grabbing the monitor frame and shaking it as if that might cause the answers to come loose.

Behind him, Dib snored loudly before shifting to his side. Zim stood perfectly still until he was certain Dib was still asleep. 

“That makes no sense!” Zim hissed. “Are you sure the sample isn’t contaminated??”

“All five samples yielded results within 0.000000000002 standard deviation.”

“Effectively the same, then,” Zim said to himself, sinking back into his seat. “This is unprecedented … there’s no way this happened by some fluke. The odds are against it, and even if they weren’t, evolution doesn’t work this quickly.”

Zim knew what he had to do, but he was dreading it. He pulled out a drawer and grabbed a pen and a pad of sticky notes, then wrote Dib a quick message about needing to go out for some things. Zim intended to be back long before Dib even knew he’d left, but it was good to have his bases covered. Just in case Dib woke up and thought Zim bad left for good.

_"Had to go out for some things. Definitely not leaving for good. Be back shortly."_

He signed it with an all-caps ZIM and a quick sketch of an anatomically correct human heart.

He stuck the note to the monitor, then turned and gently padded out of the room. He certainly hoped he wouldn't be gone long. There was really only one person who could give him the answers he needed, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to spend an inordinate amount of time chatting them up. He was _also_ pretty sure that that person was currently holed up in his office on the 5th floor of the downtown Membrane Labs building. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [All my chapter names are song titles now.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5-gja10qkw)
> 
> Also you win a cookie if you know what Act 2's title is from :3


End file.
